


Fairy Tale Nightmare

by TheGrimmScribe (orphan_account)



Series: Autistic Fairyland [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Disney Princesses, Once Upon a Time (TV), Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: ABDL, Adoption, Age Difference, Alternate Canon, Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Autism, Awkward Conversations, Babysitting, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bisexuality, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cannibalism, Celebrations, Consensual Kink, Creepypasta, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Fantasy, Decapitation, Diapers, Dick Jokes, Dirty Dancing, Disability, Disney Cameos, Disney References, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamscapes, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Food, Friendship/Love, Genre Savvy, Growing Up, Height Differences, Infantilism, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Literary References & Allusions, Masturbation, Mild Sexual Content, Modern Royalty, Monsters, Motherhood, Multi, Mythology References, Nazis, Non-Consensual Bondage, Once Upon a Time (TV) References, POV First Person, Pigs, Pop Culture, References to Canon, Seduction, Self-Insert, Sexual Humor, Slime, Studio Ghibli References, Taverns, Weird Plot Shit, Werewolves, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheGrimmScribe
Summary: The twenty-first birthday of the Grimm Scribe quickly transforms into Zhan Tiri's vision of a lucid dream when the babysitter of Rapunzel and his closest friends are transported from Corona to the frighteningly freaky but fantastic Netherworld of surrealistic phantasms. Within this realm where dreams, nightmares, and fantasies come true in an alternate reality of childlike imagination gone dangerously wrong, anything can happen and nothing is impossible or outlandish when the abnormal is normal. In this wickedly disturbed realm, the Scribe and his friends must fight back against their demons and phobias in order to survive while having their own ideas of fun in the mist of the chaos in an otherworldly kingdom where the unexpected is to be expected and nothing is sacred.
Relationships: Anna & Sven (Disney: Frozen), Anna/Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel (Disney), Anna/Rapunzel (Disney), Aurora/Snow White (Disney), Beast/Belle (Disney), Charlotte La Bouff/Naveen/Tiana, Cinderella/Tiana (Disney), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Lance Strongbow, Pascal & Rapunzel (Disney), Queen Arianna of Corona & Rapunzel (Disney)
Series: Autistic Fairyland [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701076
Kudos: 3





	1. Wide Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please allow me to kindly reiterate before our story begins that Rapunzel, Anna, and Robert are autistic adults in a safe, sane, and consensual relationship with each other. Cassandra, Rapunzel, Cinderella, Tiana, Anna, and Elsa are all over eighteen. They have adult lives with adult activities and adult desires. Rapunzel is simply a childlike dwarf (small adult) who happens to be a precious cutie little sunshine baby cinnamon roll. I've always fantasized about Queen Arianna's daughter being depicted as an Adult-Baby princess (minus the dwarfism mixed with the tragic backstory). Also, the reason my stories are in the _Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure_ fandom and not the _Tangled (2010)_ fandom in general is because I want to distance myself from the canon of the movie but also because that _Tangled_ and its characters are featured/referenced in the _Once Upon A Time_ universe. I hope that I did a good job at writing a darker and more Grimm depiction of Rapunzel's world without the overt pessimism, grotesque over-the-top violence, or abysmal despair that most "dark and edgy" retellings/subversions of fairy tales include in order to pass off as "gritty" or "modern".**

I tiptoed into a medieval garden within the ruins of a formerly glorious kingdom where it was eternally midnight. The kingdom was once an agricultural paradise. The area was bathed in purple lightning. I looked up and saw a purple moon hovering overhead in a sky without stars. Purple was the color of royalty. The walls surrounding the garden were eighty feet tall. A twenty-eight-foot-tall tower stood in the heart of the garden. Long, dirty blonde braids of hair hung loosely from the balcony on a hook beside the window and wrapped around the area. The hair had become its own demon after having grown sentient. The demonic braids pinned the unfortunate corpses of scantily-clad princes and foolhardy knights to the wall, strangling and binding them tightly so they would never be released from their fatal grasp. Their screams and cries for help echoed throughout the forest. I ignored their desperate pleas. I climbed my way up the tower using my bare hands. Upon reaching the balcony, I swung through the window and walked into a spacious, circular room with lavender walls. The only pieces of furnishing inside the tower were a vanity, a table with two chairs, a queen-sized bed, and a cradle. An ebony chandelier with eighteen candles dangled from the ceiling. I knew who lived in this tower. I knew her name. I knew her story. I turned around and saw what shouldn’t have been. There stood this world’s version of Rapunzel. Her eyes were dripping with the bloody tears of stolen innocence. The braided hair of golden rope that was the most iconic feature of her character was everywhere except on her head. The raw scalp of the young woman was bloodied and bruised with remnants of her golden hair visible. She clutched a bloodstained pair of scissors in her right hand. The princess looked up at me. She pressed her hands against the sides of her head and let out a high-pitched squeal which shook the tower from side to side in an emotional earthquake. The princess was weeping over the loss of her hair. Her sobs turned into infantile wailing and crying which frightened the daylights out of me. I broke out of my disenchanted slumber and woke up to discover that I was no longer in the tower. I was in Rapunzel’s nursery in her palace. The Rapunzel whom I knew and loved was safely embraced in my arms. Her full name was Rapunzel Gilda Moore. She was known throughout her kingdom as the Princess of Pampers. Pampers was the name of her signature brand of diapers which she enjoyed wearing and using. I hugged her tightly as I checked her diaper. She was mildly soggy but not messy. Her nine-foot-long braid was spun gold against my fingertips. The emerald eyes of the baby-faced princess bewildered me with their beauty. 

“Robert?” Rapunzel whimpered.

“Yes, baby girl? What’s wrong?” Rapunzel asked. 

“The tapes of my diaper are fastened too tightly.”

I stared down at Rapunzel’s twelve-inch-thick diaper. She wore Pampers Cruisers as her signature underwear. I adjusted the tapes and smacked her bottom as a playful but gentle gesture of affection. She thanked me with a warm hug. I loved my precious Princess of Pampers. 

“Who’s my small and precious cutie little baby princess?” I cooed.

“I am!” Rapunzel giggled, pointing to herself.

“Yes, you are. You are my darling baby doll.”

The Queen’s daughter had been fascinated with being a baby at heart since she was a literal child. I still remembered the story of how she was kidnapped, brainwashed, enslaved, and abused by the worst witch to end all witches. She had long since abandoned her traumatic past so she could grow and thrive along with her loved ones. 

“Is it morning already?” Rapunzel asked.

“Yes, it is. Good morning, baby girl.”

“Good morning, big boy.” 

“Did my little Goldilocks have nice dreams?” I wondered.

“I had lots of sticky and wet dreams from humping my pillow in my diaper all night. I was in a kinky mood before falling asleep.”

“You love doing humpies? Don’t you?” I chuckled.

“Humpies in my diapers are kinky as well as a fun way to let all the cummies out of my system,” Rapunzel replied. 

“You’re such a naughty girl.”

“I sure am,” Rapunzel replied.

Releasing herself from my embrace, Rapunzel twerked on top of the bed, wildly wiggling her soggy butt with a vaguely sexy smirk on her face and a playful seductiveness in her eyes. Her diapered posterior never failed to arouse me. There was something about the idea of an Adult-Baby princess wearing twelve-inch-thick diapers that turned me on without questioning my sanity or my sexuality. 

“What about you? Did you have any wet dreams?” Rapunzel asked.

I stared at Rapunzel. She was wearing nothing except for her diaper, her pink-and-white bib, and pink-and-purple striped stockings.

“Actually, I think that I’m in one right now,” I admitted. 

“Do you wish to feel my diaper?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I’ve always loved the softness and thickness of your diapers. Yes, Your Highness, I would gladly feel them.”

The Princess of Pampers ceased her erotic dancing and sat down with her legs open. I reached between her legs, feeling the inside and outside of her diaper. My hands were washed and gloved to avoid infecting her. Rapunzel giggled as she enjoyed having her diaper pleasured while her sensitive genitalia was being tickled. I did not inform her of my subconsciously nightmarish misadventure in one of the alternative universes where fairy tales ended tragically ever after. I did not wish to frighten her. My only wish was to make her diaper super soggy. I conjured three large baby bottles of fruit punch while I was pleasuring her. After our playtime, Rapunzel drank her juice like the good baby girl she was. I decided to dress myself in front of my favorite princess before heading downstairs for breakfast. I picked out a black-and-red striped vest, a hooded cape of crimson suede, and bright red booty shorts, alongside a pair of red sneakers which were fastened with straps instead of laces. I hated shoes with laces. They were worse than dirty diapers. My outfit made me appear more handsome than I actually viewed myself to be. I resembled an urban rendition of Red Riding Hood if the fabled heroine was a man instead of a woman. 

“You look beastly, but it’s a sexy kind of bestial handsomeness,” Rapunzel remarked.

“Why do you think of me as a sexy beast?” I wondered.

“Because werewolves are one of my guilty pleasures in terms of nocturnal creatures whose insatiable desires are carnal. I believe that werewolves are sexier than vampires.”

“You have chosen wisely,” I agreed. 

Rapunzel removed her pink-and-white bib. I retrieved her pink-and-purple dirndl and her pacifier necklace from her closet. She grabbed the dirndl and the onesie from me before dressing herself. I was proud to be the protective but non-overbearing caregiver of a strong, confident, and beautiful young lady. The neckline of her dirndl was revealing so that it showcased her cleavage. The strawberry pacifier which she routinely wore around her neck functioned as a comforting object that she routinely used for self-stimulation in case her emotions overwhelmed her. Overall, she was a small and precious baby who loved her dirndls and her diapers, but she also proved herself to be independent, fierce, and intelligent aside from being downright adorable. The height difference between us didn’t hinder our relationship. She was four-foot-five. I was five-foot-six. Neither of us really cared about what the haters thought about us as long as we loved ourselves. I climbed back into bed with her and asked if she wished to be humped.

“Of course I’m fine with being humped,” Rapunzel replied. 

The princess removed her skirt. She laid down and spread her legs. I climbed on top of her. While we entered into the second stage of our playtime, the door to the bedroom opened. Rapunzel’s wife walked in. She wore a light green nightgown with a pink sash tied around her waist. Her ginger hair was worn in braided pigtails which were three feet in length. Sven accompanied her. 

“Hello, Anna,” Rapunzel giggled.

“Hello, sweetie,” Anna yawned. 

“Hello, Your Majesty,” I replied.

“Hello, Robert,” Sven greeted me.

“Hello, Sven,” Rapunzel and I said in unison. 

“Is my little wife being a naughty girl by having playtime with her caregiver?” Anna teased. 

“I’m not being naughty!” Rapunzel whined.

“Are you sure? Does she need a spanking?”

“No spankies, thank you,” Rapunzel whimpered.

I knew that Rapunzel’s wife was joking about spanking her partner. Rapunzel took her spouse’s question seriously rather than in jest. Her mind worked differently than ours did. It had been four weeks since I permanently moved from southern Wales to the Grimm kingdom of Corona by wishing to live my own life with Rapunzel after clicking the heels of my silver sneakers together three times. I made sure to communicate with Rabbi Merlin on my laptop to inform him about my life and keep him updated on my relationship with Rapunzel’s family. He told me that he was going to stay at home but that he would visit me tomorrow. Tomorrow was my twenty-first birthday. My birthday was planned by Rapunzel to be a royal buffet where everything was sensory-friendly and nothing could possibly go wrong. All of the princesses from the fabled realms were to be invited along with their spouses and sidekicks. I asked Anna if I looked like a prince. She replied that I resembled a hunter who was attempting to pass himself off as royalty. I interpreted her answer as a compliment. Rapunzel’s wife blew a kiss to her spouse before exiting the room with her antlered companion. 

“Do you enjoy being our baby?” I asked Rapunzel.

“Being your precious princess in Pampers is the best thing that’s ever happened to me since leaving my traumatic past in the tower behind and destroying my abuser,” Rapunzel replied. 

“Gothel deserved what she got.”

I grew tired of humping Rapunzel. We crawled out of bed together and sat down on the floor. I pulled her into my lap where I reached between her legs so that I could play with her diaper. She had a large dinner last night. As a result, her Pampers were fully loaded with a plentiful amount of squishy, squeezable goodness that was dangerously stinky and therefore needed to be cleaned up after being played with. Rapunzel loved nothing more than to have her diaper squished, caressed, squeezed, and fondled by the hands of her caregivers, especially if she was in one of her kinky moods. Her heavy breathing, gasping, and moaning were audible signs that I was giving my sweetheart exactly what she desired. I changed her diaper after playtime was over.

“Do you want to check on your wife?” I asked Rapunzel.

“Yes, let’s do that,” Rapunzel replied. 

I followed Rapunzel out of her nursery and into her wife’s bedroom. Anna sat in front of her dressing table, where she was having her hair unbraided by Queen Arianna. The Norwegian Queen of Huggies wore a bright red onesie and a hooded mantle of crimson velvet. Her ginger locks were currently being curled into ringlets. 

“Why is Anna being dolled up?” I asked Rapunzel’s mother.

“She’s being changed into her costume for your birthday party,” Her Majesty replied. “I want to make sure that she’s in character. She is the Red Riding Hood to my daughter’s Goldilocks.” 

“But my birthday party isn’t happening yet. Can’t we at least wait until tomorrow?” I argued. 

“I know you’re anxious, but everything needs to be carefully planned and prepared. Why don’t you go play with Rapunzel?” 

“Okay, I will,” I replied. 

I noticed a picnic basket on Anna’s dressing table. The basket contained a bouquet of roses and a bottle of cranberry wine. Rapunzel’s wife was seriously dedicated to getting into character as she was to loving and protecting her wife with all the strength of her inner Valkyrie. I was surprised that she wasn’t descended from Thor himself. He would be proud of her. Having nothing better to do, I took Rapunzel’s hand and led her outside to the courtyard where breakfast was prepared by a reclusive Goth maidservant who lived in the backyard of the palace. Rapunzel and I sat down to a deliciously nutritious meal of cheesy scrambled eggs, corned beef sandwiches, and several glasses of grapefruit lemonade. I only took the lemonade. The eggs and sandwiches had laxatives in them since they were specifically cooked for the princess and served to her. For the second time today, Rapunzel’s diaper was jam-packed with a gigantic mess, but she didn’t have to worry about being stuck in such a stinky situation since I always brought my diaper bag with me. Another diaper change commenced. I handed the dirty diaper to Rapunzel and tracked down the location of the maidservant so I could give her a piece of my mind. I found her hiding in an alcove in the wall. I recognized the woman by her ebony hair and her green eyes.

“Cassandra?” I gasped.

The Goth maidservant panicked upon seeing me. I demanded what she was doing as a royal servant in her former girlfriend’s palace. 

“Her Majesty hired me,” Cassandra explained. 

“Why did you lace Rapunzel’s breakfast with laxatives? Was this some sort of sick prank?” I demanded. 

“Zhan Tiri told me to. She told me to make sure that Rapunzel’s Pampers were nice and packed. She wanted me to make a collection of her dirty diapers and bring them back to her before she could kidnap the princess herself. Don’t you understand? I can’t escape her. She talks to me from inside my head.”

“Okay, Miss Gothel, just calm down and listen to me,” I told Cassandra. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just concerned and mildly pissed off.” 

“I won’t make Rapunzel messy again,” Cassandra promised. 

“Do you promise?” I asked.

Cassandra shook hands with me and did her best to smile despite the misdeed that she just committed as ordered by her mistress.

“I promise.”

Taking Cassandra’s hand, I escorted her to the table on the patio where Rapunzel was seated. The Princess of Pampers hugged and kissed her ex-girlfriend. She was overjoyed to see Cassandra’s face again. 

“Cassandra? Is it really you? I knew you looked familiar,” Rapunzel said. 

“She works for your mother,” I explained. “Apparently, she’s also the puppet slave of Zhan Tiri, who’s obsessed with you.” 

“What does Zhan Tiri want with our baby girl? Why can’t she stay away from her?” I asked. 

“Zhan Tiri views Rapunzel through the same lustful eyes that Gothel used to have before her downfall. She’s a madwoman who will stop at nothing until she claims what she thinks that she deserves. Rapunzel is in serious danger as long as the sidekick of her abuser remains to threaten her. I fear that she might crash your birthday party tomorrow.” 

“What are we going to do?” Rapunzel asked.

“I’ll act as your bodyguard,” Cassandra whispered to Rapunzel.

“What about Robert? What is his plan?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I will be your chaperone,” I replied. 

“My chaperone? What’s that?” Rapunzel said.

“A chaperone is a cross between a bodyguard and a babysitter. I’ll take good care of you during the party tomorrow. I’ll even pack extra diapers in case your Pampers need to be checked and changed during the twenty-first annual celebration of my birth. As long as I’m here, nobody’s going to hurt you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The birth month of my self-insert Fursona is April. My real birth month is July.**


	2. Celebration

The day after yesterday was the commencement of my twenty-first birthday. Rapunzel, Anna, and I entered the throne room to await our guests who were invited to be part of our world. The throne room was themed to an enchanted nursery with life-sized blocks and stuffed animals suspended from the ceiling along with lavender-and-gold banners which featured golden crosses on them. A miniature forest of poles was set up at the back of the room for any dancers over eighteen years of age who wished to entertain their audience. Twenty-eight circular tables were set up throughout the area. Each table had seven chairs, seven plates, seven bowls, and seven napkins. The tables lacked silverware since Her Majesty wished for our guests to dine in a medieval fashion.

“Who’s excited for the party?” I asked.

Rapunzel and her wife raised their hands. The chubby and buff Queen of Huggies was gorgeous in her Red Riding Hood costume. The baby-faced Princess of Pampers didn’t look too shabby as her own version of Goldilocks either. Their hairstyles matched their characters. Rapunzel sported nine-foot-long ringlets. Anna wore Viking braids. The respective props of the royal couple were a picnic basket, a hatchet, and a teddy bear in Koda’s likeness. The crotch of her onesie was unsnapped, giving me and her pampered partner a decent view of her Huggies. She wore Snug & Dry. Rapunzel wore one of her Baby Dry diapers. I was dressed in princely attire for the occasion. My outfit included a burgundy-and-gold jacket, a black-and-yellow striped vest, and black breeches. 

“Do I look okay?” I wondered.

“You look fine,” Anna assured me. 

Cassandra, the Captain of the Guard, and thirty-three royal guards walked into the room. One of those guards was Adira. Cassandra and the Captain stood on both sides of the doorway. The guards sat down at their tables. They were fancily dressed in Victorian and Edwardian attire. The first pair of guests who entered the room were Maleficent and Diablo. After Maleficent and Diablo came Snow White, Elsa, Aurora, and the Seven Dwarfs. The Seven Dwarfs were followed by Belle and her handsome Beast. The French couple wore matching hooded cloaks of purple velvet over Victorian versions of their iconic ballroom outfits. Next came Eugene Fitzherbert, Lance Strongbow, and Captain Hook, who were holding hands with each other. Last but not least were Gretel, Tiana, and her spouses. The spouses of Tiana included Charlotte, Naveen, and Cinderella. I smiled and waved at our royal guests as they walked into the room. Lifting our butts from the floor, Rapunzel, Anna, and I walked over to Cinderella’s table. Cinderella was seated between Tiana and Naveen. Strangely enough, Rapunzel’s chair was a highchair, which was suitable for her diapered bottom. 

“How are y’all doing?” I asked Cinderella’s group. 

“We’re doing alright, darling,” Tiana replied. “How about you?”

“I’m just spending quality time with Rapunzel and her wife. I love them. They love me. Anna gets jealous sometimes because I’m with her little lady almost everyday. She doesn’t mind that I’m in a relationship with her. She’s just afraid that I might hurt her.”

“She’s a cute but stinky little princess in Pampers,” Naveen chuckled.

“I’m not stinky!” Rapunzel snapped, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at Cinderella’s husband.

“Relax, honey, he was only joking,” Tiana replied.

Cinderella patted Rapunzel on the head. Rapunzel grabbed Naveen’s wife’s hand and moved it away from her golden ringlets. She didn’t like being touched by her loved ones without her consent. 

“How come there aren’t any peasants here?” Tiana asked. “The villagers usually attend royal celebrations.”

“They were banned from attending indoor events altogether because my Mommy didn’t want me being bullied by anybody who dared to pick a fight with me,” Rapunzel explained. 

Rabbi Merlin appeared in the seventh chair at our table. He handed a plate of boneless buffalo wings to me. 

“Happy Birthday, Robert,” the Rabbi said. 

“Thanks, Merlin,” I replied.

“You’re welcome,” the Sorcerer told me.

I took one of the wings from the Rabbi’s plate and tore the meat from the bones with my teeth, enjoying the savory but mildly hot flavor of the fried poultry. It wasn’t too sweet or too spicy. These wings were better than porridge and hazelnut soup combined. They were just right. 


	3. Melodic Waltzes and Poisonous Intruders

In the evening, during the buffet, the royal guests in the throne room dramatically waltzed with each other to the music inside of their minds. I took Rapunzel’s hand and danced with her in time to the symphonic metal soundtrack that was playing within my head. The song in question was “Beauty and the Beast” by Nightwish. Grabbing Rapunzel from underneath her armpits, I lifted her into the air and twirled her around, her superbly saggy diaper hanging down between her legs. She had decided to drink three glasses of cranberry juice and four goblets of fruit punch before dancing with me. I took great care to avoid dropping her. The buffet at my party included extra large pizzas, macaroni and cheese, Swedish meatballs, hot dogs, chicken nuggets, cheddar-stuffed bratwurst, and fruit salad. 

“How does it feel to be twenty-one?” Rapunzel asked me.

“I don’t feel any different,” I admitted.

“Sorry for asking,” Rapunzel apologized. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m just indifferent.” 

Rapunzel was lowered downward and held in my arms. She giggled, sucking on her fingers. 

“How does it feel? Dancing with me?” I asked my partner.

“Dancing with you feels romantic,” Rapunzel replied. 

“Who’s Anna dancing with?” I asked.

Rapunzel looked over at her wife. Anna was dancing with her older sister. Anna’s sister was dressed as her birth mother, the legendary but underrated Snow Queen of Arendelle. 

“How come you didn’t eat anything?” I wondered.

“I wanted to be soggy instead of messy this evening,” Rapunzel explained to me. “I love my super soaked diapers.”

“Okay, but don’t stay soggy for too long.”

“I won’t stay soggy for too long,” Rapunzel promised.

“Do you actually wish to be changed or do you want to remain in your soaked diaper?” I wondered.

“Actually, I don’t mind having my diaper changed right now.”

“Do you want to let it all out for me?” I teased.

Rapunzel smirked at me. She understood the implications of my request. Our romantic song was interrupted by the sound of her infantile screams and cries. She only made baby noises when she wanted to be overly dramatic or when she was in the mood to be genuinely babyish without ruining the moment of whoever was in the same room with her. I carried the Princess of Pampers out of the throne room and through a doorway to the restroom where her diaper was changed. I kissed Rapunzel on the forehead, gently patted her newly diapered crotch, and cradled her in my arms. I wished that Anna was here to see us. I subconsciously summoned her to my side. She stared down at her wife. 

“She’s our small and precious baby girl, isn’t she?” Anna whispered to me.

“I shudder at the thought of what sort of demon threatens to harm such a sweet and beautiful creature,” I remarked. 

“If Zhan Tiri comes for our little princess, she better watch her ass. You aren’t the only bodyguard in this palace,” Anna replied.

Rapunzel whimpered and wiggled around in my arms. She sensed the presence of something wicked in this area. I turned around to encounter an unexpectedly unpleasant creature. Smiling back at me was a leprous, humpbacked, pale-skinned hag. The hag was a monstrous demon with a monobrow and hooked claws. The hag was five-foot-eight. She was dressed in a hooded gown of midnight velveteen and fingerless gloves of black fleece. I noticed her lavender eyes which were aflame with intense malice. Her indigo braids reached down to her thighs. When she smiled at me, her violet lips pulled back to reveal a mouth with blackened gums and rotten teeth. 

“I know it’s you, Zhan Tiri,” I snarled. 

“I do not know who this Zhan Tiri is,” the hag replied. 

“Stay away from our baby girl!” Anna shouted at Zhan Tiri. 

“Shut your piehole, you obese glutton,” Zhan Tiri hissed at her dead mother’s former prisoner’s spouse. 

Anna was thrown against the wall and knocked unconscious. I prayed that she wasn’t dead. 

“Anna!” Rapunzel screamed.

“Hush, child,” Zhan Tiri snapped. “Your wife can’t help you. You belong to Mommy now.”

“I will not go with you!” Rapunzel screamed. 

Zhan Tiri shoved a pink pacifier gag into Rapunzel’s mouth. She helplessly sucked on her pacifier and glanced upward at me. Without Anna to come to the rescue, there was only one thing for me to do. I had to fight the literal brainchild of Gothel with Rapunzel in my arms. I punched Zhan Tiri in the face. She kicked me in the stomach. I fell to the floor. Rapunzel was snatched from my arms and claimed by the demonic sorceress who proceeded to undress the frightened princess before fondling her. Rapunzel cried out my name as her diapered crotch was violently handled by the dirty hands of Zhan Tiri. I lunged at the sorceress and grabbed the Princess of Pampers from her, kicking the demon in the face for good luck. She withdrew a Red Delicious apple from inside her neck. The apple was as red as blood and as wickedly tempting as a pomegranate. She handed the sinfully delicious but forbidden fruit to Rapunzel. 

"Would you like to taste one of my finest apples?" Zhan Tiri asked.

Rapunzel shook her head. 

"No? Are you sure about that? Do you think that’s an appropriate answer? These apples are sinfully delicious. Look at how red this one is, how beautiful it looks. See how it must taste. Do you care to take a bite?"

“She doesn’t want your poisoned apples! Fuck off and leave her alone!” I barked.

Unexpectedly, Anna regained consciousness so she could rescue us from the danger that Zhan Tiri posed. She grabbed the poisoned apple from the sorceress.

“Anna, don’t!” Rapunzel and I cried out.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” Anna argued. “Heroes are always known for making sacrifices in order to save their loved ones. Why should this deed be any different?”

Before we could stop her, Anna bit into the apple, chewed, and swallowed. Her body collapsed onto the grey-and-orange checkered floor of the restroom. Her heroic sacrifice triggered a cursed slumber which affected Rapunzel, me, and even Zhan Tiri herself. Everything faded to black.


	4. Wide Awake

I opened my eyes after what seemed like three hours had passed in seven seconds. The environment surrounding me was a grove of apple trees within an overgrown graveyard in the midst of a labyrinthine, mist-shrouded forest. The thirteen-foot-tall trees grew upside-down instead of the naturally opposite direction. The graveyard was largely inhabited by eight-foot-tall statues of demonic angels and angelic demons. It was midnight in this wilderness with a full moon in the sky. Rapunzel was nowhere to be seen. I remembered cradling her in my arms after changing her diaper before Zhan Tiri attacked us. I stared down at the ground. I was standing on a dirt road that was lined with skulls on both sides and marked by a trail of bones. A yellow brick road seemed more magically familiar to me than a skeletal path. A trail of bones was downright abnormal. Yellow bricks were otherworldly. This whole forest was otherworldly. My surroundings hit me in the face with the realization behind the sudden shift in scenery. I was imprisoned within the Netherworld. The Netherworld was an alternate dimension in the form of a forested glow-in-the-dark kingdom without a proper monarch. This realm existed outside of reality. Ruled by the powers of the imagination, the Netherworld was a surreal but disturbingly mystical playground where dreams, fantasies, nightmares, and other fantastical phantasms ran wild. I found myself standing in front of an altar with ten candles and four mirrors. The fourth mirror on the right reflected the image of Anna as Red Riding Hood, but with scars on her face and bloody lips. The other three mirrors were cracked which rendered them useless for magical purposes but useful for catching a glimpse of my beastly but handsome reflection. 

“You really are a sexy beast,” I said to myself.

“The sexiest beast?” my reflection replied.

“That’s what Rapunzel said,” I chuckled.

My reflection manifested himself as my clone. He slapped me across the face and told me to focus on finding Rapunzel.

“Okay, dude, I will. Could you just relax?” I snapped.

My other self rolled his eyes at me. He was dressed in the style of a Victorian pallbearer mixed with a Goth rockstar. I took his hand and wandered through the grove, keeping myself on the lookout for the Princess of Pampers. The statues that weren’t monstrous perversions of angels or attractive demons were fashioned in the likeness of fabled heroines of royal, noble, and common birth. A Rapunzel statue appropriately stood beside a fairy ring in the center of which stood a baby carriage. The princess inside the carriage was Rapunzel. She was either playing dead or sleeping like a baby. She wore a sleeveless yellow-and-white gingham crop top with a Peter Pan collar, a matching miniskirt, and yellow-and-white striped stockings. Her golden locks were fashioned into pigtails. Her pigtails were adorned with yellow ribbons. I approached the slumbering Adult-Baby princess. The Queen’s daughter opened her eyes. She spat out the pacifier gag and sat upright. I smiled at her. She smiled back at me. 

“Did my little baby girl have a nice nap?” I asked.

“I slept like a lamb,” Rapunzel replied.

The princess raised her arms up. I placed my arms underneath her armpits and carried her out of the coffin. Being cradled in my arms was one of Rapunzel’s favorite feelings in the world. I was the teddy bear to her baby doll. I informed her that we had been transported to the Netherworld. She replied that she was familiar with this realm and how it worked. While she snuggled with me, she removed her miniskirt, tossing the unwanted garment to the ground. The miniskirt burst into flames and vanished with a banshee’s scream after it was discarded by its wearer. I patted Rapunzel’s bottom while bouncing her up and down in my embrace. I couldn’t bear to part with her. That’s when a literal bear appeared. Rapunzel screamed. I screamed along with her. We held each other's hands and closed our eyes. The power of our love formed a force field around us. I kissed Rapunzel’s forehead, cheeks, and lips which somehow caused the bear’s eyes to explode out of their sockets before his teeth fell out, his body dissolved, and his bones crumbed into ashen dust. Rapunzel held onto me as I walked through the graveyard with her.

“You are my hairy baby,” I whispered to the pampered princess. 

“You’re my big boy,” Rapunzel replied, stroking my beard. 

“Would you like me to tell you a story during our walk?” I offered.

“Storytime is always a good time.”

I chose to tell an English fairy tale to Rapunzel to pass the time as we strolled through the wilderness of the Netherworld.

"Once upon a time, in an enchanted forest, there lived a homeless young woman named Goldilocks. Her namesake came from her golden ringlets. She lived in the same part of the forest as a family of three bears. One day, she broke into the cottage of the Three Bears, sat in their chairs at their table, ate their porridge, and slept in their beds. Everything in the cottage was just right."

“What happened when the Three Bears returned to their house?” Rapunzel asked. 

“The Bears were horrified that somebody had broken and entered into their home,” I continued. “When they found Goldilocks asleep in Baby Bear’s crib, their anger softened and they adopted her. Goldilocks became Baby Bear’s big sister, Papa Bear’s little helper, and Mama Bear’s baby girl. Can you guess how they all lived?”

“Happily ever after!” Rapunzel giggled, clapping her hands and smiling at me. 

“Yes, sweetie, they all lived happily ever after, just like us.”


	5. Demonic Tower of the Wicked Sorceress

I would obviously be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t in love with Rapunzel and Anna. They were equally and adorably badass heroines in their own individual ways. Nothing came between us and Rapunzel. Not bloodthirsty demons, wicked witches, murderous queens, or cursed beasts in disguise. Realizing that the Princess of Pampers would be cold if she wore just a crop top and stockings, I swaddled her in a blanket of purple velvet which was fit for wrapping the Queen’s daughter in. Our stroll through the wilderness resumed. On the outskirts of the graveyard there stood a medieval tower which was twenty feet tall. The tower featured a windowsill but no stairs nor doors. The only entrance was a curtained window. The conical roof of the tower was covered with purple shingles. It reminded me of Rapunzel’s former prison back in the western woods of Corona. This tower was less impressive and more foreboding than the eighty-foot-tall castle that Her Highness adored. Two gargoyles carved in the fashion of vultures were perched on both sides of the tower. I realized that the tower was an exact replica of the alternative Rapunzel's prison in the Kingdom of Scary Tales. The sight of the tower gave me a quick but foolish idea.

“I’m going to climb up there and explore the interior of that tower,” I told Rapunzel.

“Don’t you want me to come with you?” Rapunzel asked.

“You should search for your wife,” I suggested. 

“But I want to go with you!” Rapunzel whined.

“Alright, alright, you’ll go with me.”

I stared down at my feet and clicked my heels together three times. Instantly, Rapunzel and I were transported onto the windowsill of the tower. I realized that the curtains draped over the doorway acting as the tower’s entrance weren’t fabric. They were braided ropes of golden hair. I wasn’t surprised at the knowledge of discovering the sorceress who inhabited the tower. 

“Zhan Tiri?” I gasped.

The brainchild of Gothel sat upright in her four-poster bed which was stacked with seven mattresses. Her room was furnished with two bedside tables, a gilded vanity, a round table with two chairs, and an extra large fireplace. Eighteen mirrors adorned the walls of the circular room as physical reminders of her vanity. The tower was enchanted so that the interior design matched the tastes of whoever occupied its spacious room as the inhabitant. Zhan Tiri had discarded her disguise. Gone was the haggard crone with poisoned apples of temptation. In her place was the demonic sorceress whom I loved to hate. With a snap of her fingers, Rapunzel was bound and gagged, and I found myself at the mercy of this ungodly creature whose madness functioned without reason or rhyme. Her six arms stretched toward me. Rapunzel screamed as she was torn from my embrace and placed on one of the bedside tables that was near her nemesis. I galloped to her side so that I could confront Zhan Tiri. I punched the sorceress in the face before removing Rapunzel’s shackles and pacifier gag. 

“Are you okay?” I asked Rapunzel. 

“I’m fine, but you need to let me fight this demon,” Rapunzel replied. “She’s the sidekick of my abuser. I need to confront her.”

“What about me?” I said. 

Zhan Tiri answered my question by telekinetically throwing my autistic ass out of the window and off the balcony. Rapunzel screamed and cried. I plummeted to the ground, my body collapsing onto the grass of the forest. My bones weren’t broken. My spirit was shattered. I looked up at the tower. Thirteen minutes later, Rapunzel jumped from the tower and landed butt-first on my stomach, smacking the seat of her diaper. She carried the decapitated head of Zhan Tiri and a stainless steel hatchet stained with fresh blood. The Princess of Pampers handed the hatchet to me. I gave her a high-five, a warm hug, and a cuddle for managing to defeat Zhan Tiri by herself without any help from yours truly. My clone helped me to regain my sense of footing. I stood up, holding Rapunzel in my arms, as I shook my clone’s hand. Our group encountered Anna in the midst of the continuation of our stroll through the wilderness of the Netherworld. The Norwegian spouse of Rapunzel had changed her appearance, as did her wife. She wore a black-and-red gingham minidress, red knee-high boots, red gloves, and a hooded cape of dark red velvet. Rapunzel was dressed in a peach-and-lavender dirndl. Her nine-foot-long hair had been braided into a lengthy ponytail. 

“Hello, Anna,” I said. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been hunting humanoid pigs,” Anna replied.

“Humanoid pigs?” I chuckled.

“In this realm, the roles of predatory and prey are reversed, so the pigs are the bad guys and the wolves are the victims instead of the other way around. In other words, this not-so-little Red Riding Hood will be having pork for her dinner. Tonight's specials are going to be short ribs, rump roasts, sausages, bacon, and ham."

I stared down at Anna’s basket. Her basket contained the heads of three anthropomorphic boars. She was Red Riding Hood hunting the Three Pigs. Her wife was Goldilocks. The caregiver of Goldilocks was the Big Bad Werewolf. I realized how weirdly convoluted this entire situation would sound to a person without creativity or imagination as their friend. I honestly didn’t care. I handed Rapunzel over to her wife and told her to continue her hunting trip without me. 

“Where are you going?” Anna asked.

“I’m going to look for Merlin,” I replied. 

“Good luck,” Rapunzel said to me.

I kissed Rapunzel on the cheek and waved goodbye to her. Once Anna and Rapunzel made their exit, my personal journey through this waking nightmare continued. 


	6. Long Pork

My chosen path through the wilderness led to an interesting but not unexpected sight which I’ve read about in one of my storybooks. It was a gingerbread house with three windows and a doorway without doors. The gingerbread house was styled after a Victorian candy shop. Blood spattered the exterior walls, adding a sense of dread to the otherwise colorfully candy-coated architecture. 

“Don’t go into the gingerbread house of candy. The candy-making baker is a wicked witch who will bake us into pies,” my clone whispered to me.

“Shut up!” I growled at myself.

“You don’t want to end up like the baker’s victims.”

“I don’t even know this baker is,” I argued.

“Yes, you do.”

I rolled my eyes at my clone before entering through the doorway and into the main room of the gingerbread house. The interior was a candle-lit cavern as opposed to a brightly-colored candy shop where childlike dreams came true. Two circular tables were spotted in the corners of the room. The tables displayed platters of candied peaches, licorice ropes, cupcakes, scones, lollipops, cakes, pies, cookies, and other sweet treats which appeared to be good to be truly delicious. The walls were red-and-white striped. Life-sized candy canes, peppermints, and hard candies shaped into screaming faces adorned the walls. I turned around and noticed that a third table stood beside me. The treats on this table weren’t sweet at all. Plates of organic meat pies and cupcakes made with human body parts were arranged in a circle around a cauldron of broth. Floating within the broth of the cauldron were the heads of three elderly wizards. The back of the room was a kitchen with a human-sized oven. On the left side of the oven was a pantry. An ebony cage stood on the right side. Locked within the cage was Rabbi Merlin himself. I rushed over to the wrongfully imprisoned Sorcerer and smiled at him. He wasn’t in the mood to smile back at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked the Rabbi.

“It’s Gothel’s coven. One of the Nightshade Sisters captured me and brought me here,” Merlin replied. “She said that she’s going to fatten me up so that I may be slaughtered, marinated, and baked into a pie for her evening feast.”

“I thought Cinderella killed the Nightshade Sisters after Rapunzel liquidated their leader?” I argued.

“Remember what you said? The dead don’t always stay dead. I’ve always had nightmares about being killed and cooked by a coven of wicked witches. The fact that my situation mirrors one of your cherished bedtime stories doesn’t help me either. Is there any way that you can rescue me?”

“I can conjure a key to free you from your cage,” I suggested.

“Not if the baker can’t do anything about it.”

I swiftly turned around and stared at the witch. The witch was none other than the dreaded Sugracha. Her green eyes and sickly sweet smile were undoubtedly recognizable. She wore her grey hair in braided pigtails which protruded from the sides of her head like horns. Dressed in a black gown and a shawl of grey fleece, she appeared as a harmless old widow, but the demon within her was not worthy of a proper disguise. I knew her heart. She knew mine. The witch handed a tray of cupcakes to the Rabbi and forced him to eat the entire batch. 

“I can’t eat anymore,” the Rabbi replied.

“Let him out!” I demanded.

“I shall do no such thing. He is my dinner,” Sugracha hissed. “Dinner is to be cooked and eaten.”

“He isn’t your dinner. He’s my tutor.”

“Excuse me?” Sugracha snapped.

“You heard me, you disgusting witch. Leave the Rabbi alone.”

“Stupid boy! You know nothing of me or my kind!” Sugracha laughed. “I have dined on the flesh and blood of Jews for centuries. My appetite is insatiable. My thirst is undying. You are not powerful enough to destroy me.”

My sword transformed into a pair of carving knives. I smiled at the witch. 

“Not powerful enough? You want to eat your words? Because I’m about to curb your appetite.”

“Curb my appetite, you say? I will finish you off like turkey and stuffing during Thanksgiving dinner. Once I’m finished with you, your precious Sorcerer will be as plump and rosy as a ripe apple before he is slaughtered for my feast,” the witch retorted. 

“I don’t think so.”

Utilizing the fury of my knives, I plunged the blades into the witch’s eyes, pulled them out, and stabbed her in the abodemen. Rabbi Merlin freed himself from his cage. The Sorcerer tackled the witch and repeatedly beat her with his fists until blood was leaking from her eyes and her nostrils. Lifting her from the floor as if she was a dumb sack of flour, the Rabbi carried her to her own oven, tossed her into the flames, and tightly locked the iron doors after shutting them. Her muffled screams mixed with the crackling of the flames was satisfying to my ears. 

"Is it just me or does the aroma of burning flesh from the baker's oven remind anyone else of barbecue?" I remarked. “She smells delicious.”

“Barbecue sounds good, but she’s definitely not kosher,” the Rabbi replied. 

I took the Rabbi’s hand and walked with him out of the gingerbread house. Unlike me, he couldn’t see my clone. My clone was only visible to me. 

“Where are Anna and Rapunzel?” Merlin asked.

“They’re hunting for pork,” I replied.

“Hunting for pork?” the Rabbi repeated.

“Sausage, bacon, and ham. It’s a wolf’s favorite feast. The pigs within this realm are humanoid demons who prey on wolves for their meals. It’s a reverse version of a tale as old as time.”

“Everything is backwards and timeless around here,” Merlin agreed. 

“How do you best kill a demonic pig gone wild?” I inquired. 

“Decapitation seems like the best way to do it. Slitting their throats also comes in handy. Killing pork used to be my specialty back in the days of the second World War.”

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” I asked.

“You are correct. The swine that Anna and Rapunzel are hunting belongs to a species who views themselves as the master race. Pigs are Nazis and Nazis are pigs. The wolves are simply victims who ended up crossing paths with these ungodly demons only to be slaughtered without mercy or remorse by their hands in their deadly game where you have to kill or be killed in order to survive.” 

I shuddered after hearing Merlin’s words. If Nazis were truly pigs in human form, then I would do everything in my power to avoid being their prey, since I was a disabled werewolf of color. Disabled and non-white people were one of many targets who were hunted and killed by the racist swine of lower society as their own twisted form of sport. Their crimes would not go unpunished. 


	7. Problems of Crappy Pests Followed by Racist Swine and A Badass Display of Bloody Mitzvah

The Rabbi and I retraced our footsteps back to the fog-shrouded graveyard where I had awakened at the start of my surreal misadventure. The twenty-foot-tall tower which once belonged to Zhan Tiri could be seen from four miles away. I stared down and realized I was standing near a well with a water pump. I walked over to the well to examine my reflection. My outfit had changed. I wore a black jacket, black breeches, and black boots. I was a monstrous Goth biker prince in dark armor. 

“You look badass,” Merlin remarked.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“You’re welcome. Where’s Rapunzel?” 

“She should be around here somewhere,” I said.

I walked around the graveyard. I cupped my hands over my mouth and made my presence known to Anna’s wife. 

“Rapunzel? Rapunzel? Where are you?” 

The four-foot-five Princess of Pampers emerged from behind the statue of a half-naked angel with her breasts exposed. Both the Rabbi and I stared at the baby-faced princess dressed in her peach-and-lavender dirndl. Pink, red, and purple roses adorned her nine-foot-long ponytail of braided hair. I took Rapunzel’s hand and danced around the statue with her. Grabbing onto the hem of her dirndl with her right hand, she lifted her skirt up, showcasing her thickly diapered crotch to me as her way of telling me that she loved me. I ran my fingers along her golden hair. She reached inside my pants with her left hand. I tugged on the waistband of her diaper and stuck my finger inside to tickle her sensitive spot. The Princess of Pampers was extremely ticklish when it came to having the inside of her diaper pleasured by the naughty hands of her partners. She giggled so much that her padding became soaked with urine and semen. I was wearing gloves as usual so that my hands didn’t get messy. Once she was satisfied with this display of affection, I withdrew my hand from inside her diaper, patting her butt. She shimmed her hips from side to side. I watched Rapunzel as she climbed up the statue and perched herself on top of its head as if it was the balcony of the tallest tower in the wilderness. Grabbing onto her braided ponytail, she lowered her seven feet of golden hair down, posing as a distressed damsel as part of our playtime.

“Is this the part where she dramatically falls off the statue and you end up catching her to symbolize the trust between yourselves?” the Rabbi asked.

Rapunzel answered the Rabbi’s question by doing exactly as he described. I caught the Princess of Pampers in my hairy arms so she wouldn’t be injured after her playful descent from the head of the statue. I carried over to the wishing well. The water inside the well was a reflective but malodorous broth of broiling and bubbling liquid with an aroma reminiscent of overcooked meat mixed with the toxicity of dirty diapers. The water was clean but the nearly intolerable stench was horrific. Reaching inside the well, I pulled out a bucket with a dead raven inside. Rapunzel took pity on the unfortunate bird. She removed him from the bucket and cradled him. The raven screeched horribly as he awakened from his seemingly fatal slumber. Flapping his wings, he splattered mud all over Rapunzel, screaming insults at her before flying away into the heavens above. It was at this exact moment that things went from strange to downright disturbing. Rapunzel no longer felt like herself after having been insulted and dirtied by that raven. She waddled over to the pump to fill up her diaper with water. The well had placed her under its spell. While she pumped water into her diaper so it thickened as it drooped and sagged down between her legs, a puppy-sized blob sprang out from the well. The blob had a mouth, a nose, and eyes, but no eyes. The creature that originated from the depths of the well was a demon that I once read about in one of Merlin’s books. Born from sentient mud mixed with a corpse’s fecal matter, the blob only existed within the realm of nightmares. It was known as the Crappy Pest. Its true name remained unknown to folklorists within the fetish and kink communities of the world. The Crappy Pest was a perverted creature and a shitty pestilence. I couldn't let my golden-haired companion be endangered by this malformed creature. 

“Baby girl? Could you please look down?” I said to Rapunzel.

Rapunzel broke out of her trance. She looked down at the blob. She screamed, backing away from the stinky demon. No matter how much she attempted to run away, the blob followed her, determined to get its way inside of her diaper. The pampered princess ran into my arms. I sat down seven feet away from the approaching monster. Her Highness removed the skirt of her dirndl. I unleashed a deadly roar which caused the blob to dissolve. The monstrous abomination didn’t stay down. The blob reconstructed itself. With a creepy smile, the monster stretched his arms outward and reached for the princess, grabbing onto her ankles. Rapunzel whimpered as her legs were forced open without being touched. The creature did not stop smiling as he stared at her diaper. I knew what needed to be done. 

“ _I_ _ncenerire!_ ” I roared.

Conjuring a ball of hellfire, I hurled my weapon at the blob, completely destroying the demon. I patted Rapunzel on the back while hugging her tightly and kissing her neck. I was her caregiver. Caregivers always did their best to protect and comfort their babies no matter if they were young at heart or literal children. With the monster defeated, I sat up with Rapunzel holding onto me, stood up, and walked back to where Rabbi Merlin was located. He sat on a throne in the heart of the graveyard. The Rabbi was dressed in the garments of an English nobleman and drinking grapefruit lemonade from a golden goblet studded with diamonds and pearls. 

“Shouldn’t we get going and search for Rapunzel’s wife?” I asked.

“Can’t I enjoy my sweetly sour beverage first?” Merlin replied.

As Merlin enjoyed his citrus drink, a deeply guttural growling sounded from beneath the ground I was standing on. Rapunzel cried like an infant. I hugged her protectively but gently. The funky scent of rotten carcasses alerted me to the presence of the undead within the graveyard. An army of thirteen Nazi pigs awakened from their crypts, tombs, and coffins. They were dressed in biker’s clothing with symbols of their community worn around their wrists and inverted crosses around their necks. The inhuman swine were armed with torches, pitchforks, and other weapons that angry mobs usually wielded in an old-fashioned horror story. Bloody saliva dripped from their lips as they glared hungrily at me. Half of the Nazi party had their gaze focused on Rapunzel. Since she represented the stereotypical image of a beautiful German child in their eyes, they presumed that I had kidnapped her, and that I was to be put to death for the false crime of being her caregiver. 

“Robert?” Merlin asked.

“Yes?” I replied.

“This is the part where we run for our lives and save our bacon.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I agreed.

I stared disconcertingly at the army of Nazi pigs. Not wanting to be made into their latest meal, I followed Rabbi Merlin out of the graveyard and into a clearing where we approached a cottage built from bricks and thatched with straw. An ironic hideout for a werewolf who was being pursued by literal swine. I placed Rapunzel down on the floor. The cottage was furnished in the fashion of a woodcutter’s cabin. Anna sat in front of the fireplace, feeding the hungry flames with one of her dirty diapers which she kept in a barrel nearby. 

“Is this your dream house?” Rapunzel asked her wife. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m going to defend it from danger,” Anna replied. 

Rapunzel’s wife lifted up the hem of her minidress and retrieved the hatchet of stainless steel from within her diaper. I swore to myself that this waking nightmare kept getting crazier by the minute. Rapunzel ran toward me and tugged on my jacket. She raised her arms up. I picked her up and held her. We stared at the tightly locked door. I ran over to one of the windows to look outside. The Nazi pigs were standing on the front porch. They were beyond angry. They were pissed off that their dinner had grown legs and ran off. I announced to my companions that we got company. The door unlocked itself and exploded into pieces from the windstorm within the lungs of the intruder who stormed into the cottage. The intruder was the leader of the Nazi pig gang. He was the thirteenth pig. The thirteenth pig was everything except human. He turned out to be the biggest, baddest, and heaviest enemy that my dark chocolate eyes had ever seen. He was roughly around the same height as Merlin but three inches taller. He looked delicious. The pig had plenty of meat on his bones to pick and eat from after he was slaughtered by his furry adversary. Wolves were hairier, faster, and stronger than pigs. This beast was extra hairy and extra enormous. Battling him would be a challenge. I was too caught up in my thoughts to actually confront him at first. The Nazi pig grabbed me by my shoulders and pinned me against the wall. His hands were around my throat.

“Leave him alone!” Rapunzel screamed.

Rapunzel’s screams only added more fuel to the fires of fury within the pig’s shriveled heart. I punched my opponent in the face. He released me from his grip and fell backwards onto the floor. Rabbi Merlin grabbed the hatchet from Anna. He walked over to the fallen Nazi. 

“Why won’t you let me kill that bastard?” I argued.

“Because this isn’t your fight,” Merlin replied. 

“But it’s my nightmare? Isn’t it?” I asked.

“This isn’t your nightmare. It’s mine.”

I squatted down on the floor, keeping my eyes open. I did not dare to blink. I wanted to avoid missing the action that was about to take place in the name of justice. 

“Any last words before your head is no longer connected to your neck?” the Rabbi asked.

The Nazi pig could only squeal in response. He did not have the vocal cords of a human since he was inherently inhuman. 

“Off with his head,” I whispered.

“Off with his head!” Rapunzel giggled, clapping her hands and bouncing in my arms.

“Off with his head!” Anna cheered.

The Rabbi gave a thumbs-up to us. Somehow, even without asking, I knew that killing Nazis was an old habit of his that he had longed to get back into. He turned around and smiled in my direction.

“Off with his head.”

The creature’s screams were silenced after he was swiftly decapitated. His head was placed on the table beside the fireplace to be skinned and trimmed before being cooked. 

“Who’s hungry for bacon, sausages, and ham?” I asked.

Rapunzel and Anna raised their hands. I removed the Nazi’s clothes and burned them in the fireplace. After my latest kill was undressed, I began preparing dinner for everyone except Merlin. He had lost his appetite. 


	8. Dinner After Dark

Our evening meal in the dining room was awkward but tranquil. Anna fed half of her meal to her wife. Rabbi Merlin was asleep in his chair. A pillow was placed between Rapunzel’s legs which she humped in her highchair while she was eating. I silently ate my share of thoroughly cooked pork. Sausages and pieces of bacon were on my plate. The ham was served to Rapunzel and her wife. Throughout the eight years that I spent as a werewolf, I had my fair share of flesh and blood, but none as delicious or tender as the meat from a Nazi’s body. I chewed, swallowed, and digested my meal before starting a conversation with Anna. 

“What is your full name?” I asked Rapunzel’s spouse.

“My full name is Anna Patti Gerta Aisha Bell-Moore,” Anna revealed. 

“Why do you have two last names? What’s your familial history? And why do you enjoy dressing up as Red Riding Hood?" I wondered.

“I have two last names because I took my wife’s surname after we got married. I am Norwegian, German, and Sami. My parents had Sami ancestry. They were the first monarchs of Arendelle to be a white-passing couple with indigenous blood running through their veins. My big sister was adopted. My mother was autistic. My father was neurotypical. My wife isn’t the only woman who’s the daughter of an autistic mother. I enjoy dressing up as Red Riding Hood because she was my first crush. She’s been my favorite heroine since childhood. Did you know that the Handmaids in _The Handmaid’s Tale_ wear cloaks reminiscent of the character? In Germany, Red Riding Hood is known as Little Red Cap, because of her red bonnet. The Handmaids also wear bonnets along with their red hooded capes. Their bonnets are white. I partially wish to cosplay as Offred someday. Aside from capes and cloaks, my wardrobe includes a collection of red hoodies, gowns, crop tops, onesies, and sweaters. The better to feed my inner Red Riding Hood with. Aside from Red Riding Hood, I also love my Huggies. I’ve worn this specific brand of diapers since I was little. I used to be a bedwetter before realizing that I had a diaper fetish. They aren’t as thick or cushy as my wife’s Pampers, but they’re still pretty cute. I feel like a big baby whenever I wear them. However, unlike my wife, I don’t identify as an Adult-Baby. She’s my baby girl. I’m her chubby and buff bodyguard.”

“Are you an environmentalist?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I do care about the environment and the ecosystem. Thanks for asking. I recognize that disposable diapers aren’t exactly healthy for Mother Nature, but I do recycle and compost them whenever I have the chance to do so, since dirty diapers are proven to make excellent fertilizer. Sven loves how they smell. He thinks it’s funny when I’m stinky and messy.”

“Do you prefer stinky or soggy diapers?” I asked Anna.

“Stinky,” Anna replied.

“Super soggy,” Rapunzel answered.

“Is my little wife super soggy right now?” Anna cooed. 

“You have no idea.”

I decided to change the subject in order to make things less awkward between us. I asked Rapunzel if she was comfortable with performing a striptease after dinner. She told me that an erotic performance was exactly what she was in the mood for this evening. Removing herself from her highchair, she walked over to the center of the room, where a spotlight shined down on her from out of nowhere. The entire area became bathed in purple lighting as the instrumental version of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” played in the background. Rapunzel wrapped her ponytail around her neck like a scarf. She wiggled her crotch and hips, smirking in my direction. Anna was equally entertained by her wife’s coy movements just as I was. We were amazed at Rapunzel’s decision to utilize her nine-foot-long hair as a prop for her improvised dancing. She grabbed onto her braid and twirled around, flashing her diaper at us before removing her skirt and tossing it aside. The removal of her skirt prompted her to twerk which teased us even more with a glimpse of her padded bottom. She kept on twerking while whipping her braided rope back and forth. Her bodice became unlaced. Her blouse was removed to reveal her breasts. I watched her diaper-clad body as it wildly danced around the room. My clone howled his approval. Thinking that I was the one howling, Anna copied me under the assumption that I was aroused by the sultry choreography of her wife. Rapunzel was smitten. The lighting in the room changed from purple to red. Now it was Anna’s turn to bust a move. The wife of Rapunzel got up from her chair, got down on all fours, and crawled like a wolf toward her wife. She grabbed Rapunzel by the wrists and playfully held her down while snarling in her face. Rapunzel was more puzzled than frightened. 

“Your wife is unleashing her inner wolf,” I explained to Rapunzel.

“Thanks for telling me,” Rapunzel replied.

Anna chose to get naughty by humping her wife in true lupine fashion after removing her cloak and minidress. Underneath she wore a hooded onesie of red suede. The manner in which she rode Rapunzel wasn’t that different from how actual wolves mated with each other. Rapunzel’s gasps and moans excited me. I loved hearing the sound of her voice. Though their lifestyle did not solely revolve around playing with each other in a sexual context, I had spent enough time with Anna and Rapunzel to recognize when both of them were in a kinky mood. Remembering that the Netherworld was a realm where wishes and fantasies came alive, I decided to spend some kinky but consensual alone time with Rapunzel in the graveyard where she wished to play with me. 

“What sort of playtime do you have in mind?” I asked.

Rapunzel hid behind one of the demonic statues. Three minutes later, she emerged wearing her pink-and-purple dirndl. She giggled as she lifted up her skirt to show off her extremely jam-packed Pampers to me. Her diaper was super full this evening. The droopy padding was all the way down to her ankles. The smell of her dirty diaper didn’t bother me as much as it used to. I was beginning to find it oddly pleasant. The smirk on her face was her way of asking me if I wanted to change her diaper in such a spooky setting. I was more than happy to fulfill her traditional request. I didn’t mind changing the diapers of a twenty-eight-year-old baby at heart. My new life of being the adorably beautiful Rapunzel’s babysitter and caregiver was my dream come true. My only problem was how to dispose of her soiled diaper in a graveyard. I ended up feeding it to one of the statues. Taking Rapunzel’s hand, I led my precious Princess of Pampers toward a circular pool in the center of the graveyard where the well once stood. Rapunzel discarded her skirt before she knelt down beside the pool where she crawled into the semi-shallow water and stood up to pose dramatically. Naughty tentacles sprang up from the water and wrapped themselves around her wrists. The tentacles wished to play with her. I smiled as the slimy appendages from the creature lurking within the pool slithered their way into her diaper. Rapunzel wasn’t frightened by the tentacles. She embraced their kinky intentions. The Princess of Pampers opened her legs in order to properly invite the tentacles into her padding. She wiggled her crotch back and forth as she was being tickled so that she would produce lots of semen in her diaper. Our sexual fantasies had come to life in front of our eyes. Both of us were satisfied in different ways. I told my princess to keep on wiggling and jiggling.

“Wiggle and jiggle! Jiggle and wiggle!” Rapunzel giggled, unable to control her high-pitched laughter amidst the naughty tickling. 

Three minutes later, the kinky tentacles removed themselves from inside Rapunzel’s diaper. The slimy appendages silently sank back into the pool from whence they sprang from after they had done their job of satisfying the desires of the pampered princess. 

“What do you want to do now?” I asked.

“Maybe go for a walk?” Rapunzel replied.

“Going for a walk sounds nice. Let’s go.”

I picked Rapunzel up from the pool, once again holding her in my arms like the protective babysitter I was. Rapunzel was carried instead of walking beside me because her feet were tired. The little princess was sleepy after all our misadventures and moments of pleasure that had come about from being transported to this realm by means of a poisoned apple which was crafted by the witchery of a demonic sorceress. The path we walked was lined with the heads of fifteen Nazi pigs impaled on tall stakes of mahogany. Carved into the foreheads of each pig’s head was an inverted cross. Racist swine deserved to be made into fresh meat. Rabbi Merlin once told me something like this during my early years of being his student. 

“This fairy tale of a nightmare keeps proving itself to be curiouser and curiouser,” I remarked.

We exited the graveyard and walked through the otherworldly wilderness of the Netherworld. I stopped in the middle of our walk to change Rapunzel’s diaper for the umpteenth time. I wondered why such sticky, wet, and warm messes could be unleashed from the bowels, bladder, and vagina of an Adult-Baby princess whom I viewed as small and precious despite her agency as an adult of childlike stature. My diaper bag was always worn over my shoulder at all times in case she needed her diaper checked or changed. I loved the Princess of Pampers as much as she loved wetting and messing herself. 

“Does it feel better when your butt is nice and clean?” I asked Rapunzel.

“I don’t really care how my diapered butt feels as long as I’m comfy and happy in my diapers,” Rapunzel replied.

“Good answer.”


	9. Slimy

The Princess of Pampers led me down the northwestern path to the entrance of a cave. The entrance was carved from bright orange rock and appeared to be a skull-shaped pumpkin with its mouth acting as the doorway which we passed through. The interior was lit by candles. The candles were held in place by the arms of iron sconces protruding from the walls. To Rapunzel’s delight, in the center of the room was a large cauldron of bubbly green slime that seemed to be made especially for her. The aroma of the slime was that of fresh lemons and limes. I wondered if it was safe for Her Highness to eat. I removed her clothes and stuffed them into my diaper bag. She was clothed in a lavender tank top, a mauve crop top with long sleeves, and green stockings. Her tank top was worn over her long-sleeved crop top. 

“This is going to be so much fun!” Rapunzel cheered.

I sat down in a chair and watched the princess approach the cauldron of slime. I noticed that the stalagmites within the cave were oddly phallic in appearance. They reminded me all too much of my own inevitable arousal. Rapunzel was now standing knee-deep in the cauldron. Reaching down, she gathered a handful of slime and stuffed the gelatinous concoction into her mouth. She began shoving slime into her diaper. Her Pampers slowly dropped and sagged as they quickly became seven times fuller than her tummy. Slime dripped down the front of her bloated diaper, leaking from the legholes and occupying her chubby tummy which she patted happily. She slapped her diaper which flopped back and forth. My raging boner strengthened at the sight of the scantily-clad Rapunzel in her swollen, jam-packed padding. Her padding retained lots of slime thanks to its extra absorbent properties. The diapers of Rapunzel were fluffy pillows between her legs which did indeed work wonders whether they were stuffed or soggy.

“Rapunzel?” I asked.

Rapunzel turned around and faced me.

“Yes?” Her Highness replied.

“Are you familiar with a Sephardi princess named Sofia?” I inquired.

“Are you referring to Princess Sofia Balthazar-Ramirez of Enchancia? Stepsister of Princess Amber Winslow and Prince James Winslow? Daughter of Queen Miranda?” Rapunzel wondered.

“That’s the Sofia whom I’m speaking of.”

“I met Sofia and Amber six years ago. Sofia’s amulet summoned me when their kingdom was taken over by some crazy princess named Ivy. Amber was uncomfortable that her favorite princess still wore diapers, but Sofia didn’t mind,” Rapunzel admitted. 

“How old are they now?” I asked. 

“They’re teenagers.”

“They grow up so fast, don’t they? I remember watching their reality show when I was younger, and they were little kids,” I laughed.

“Sofia is sixteen. Amber and James are seventeen. Their mother is fifty-two. I am twelve years older than Sofia. Did you know that Sofia is the same height as me? I’m not the only princess who’s under five feet tall. However, she's five inches taller than me, and I'm five inches smaller than she is. Curiouser and curiouser."

“Isn’t Enchancia partnered with Avalor?” I recalled.

“The English kingdom of Enchancia and the South American kingdom of Avalor are best friends with each other.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Elena and Sofia always loved each other as sisters even though they have actual siblings in their respective households. Sofia has James and Amber. Elena has Isabel.”

“I used to be friends with Sofia,” I replied.

“Why aren’t you friends with her anymore?” Rapunzel asked.

“Our friendship ceased as I grew older. I was no longer part of her world. I’m a young man now. She’s still a child. When reality punches us in the face, it’s best for some of us to grow up and leave our fairylands behind in order to mature as part of our growth in the real world. You’re the sort of lady who thinks that growing up sucks which is you prefer being my pretty baby girl. I personally believe that it doesn’t hurt to grow up as long as you maintain your dignity and know when to be a grown-up at the appropriate times. Maturity isn’t inherently bad. It’s just a part of our lives as we become older and wiser as part of our journey into adulthood. You are an immortal baby at heart with eternal youth and the gift of a second childhood. I am a mortal werewolf whose chronological clock acts as my personal enchanted rose. When the last petal falls, my soul shall depart from its physical host, and I shall become a denizen of the kingdom beyond reality known as the afterlife.” 

“Why don’t you ask Merlin to make you immortal like me?” Rapunzel suggested. 

“Because one man’s dream is another man’s nightmare. Immortality for some people is the same as being trapped in a tower. It makes prisoners of their souls.”

Rapunzel rushed over to me and knelt down in front of me. 

“Which am I? A dream or a nightmare?” Her Highness asked.

“You’re my greatest fantasy ever brought to life,” I answered.

“If I’m your fantasy, then will you allow me to turn this nightmare into a wet dream?” Rapunzel teased.

“As you wish.”

Crawling into my lap, Rapunzel unbuttoned the front of my breeches and reached inside my underwear. I froze in silence as she grabbed onto my hairy pickle. I thought she wanted to suck the semen from me. I was wrong. The Princess of Pampers merely desired to tickle my pickle rather than use it as her secondary pacifier. She asked me if my lupine junk was sweeter than candy. I was confused but amused at the same time. She got to play with my crotch. I simply stared down at hers. Both of us had bulges in our pants from the pleasure we shared. Her sagging diaper only added more fuel to my arousal. I wrapped my arms around the waist of the princess and locked lips with her. 

“I bet you like that, don’t you?” Rapunzel asked.

“I don’t like it. I love it.”

“Am I being a naughty baby, Daddy?” Rapunzel wondered.

“Yes, you are, and don’t ever call me Daddy. Do you remember why I don’t appreciate it when you call me that?”

“You don’t like being called Daddy because it makes you uncomfortable,” Rapunzel remembered.

“Good girl. I already told you that I’m not into that sort of kinky shit. It makes me uneasy.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to play with you.”

I reached between Rapunzel’s legs and smacked her slime-filled diaper. She gasped and moaned. 

“Does the naughty baby girl like that?”

“I love that,” Rapunzel whispered to me.

“Does she want more?” I asked.

“Give me more.”

I gave into Rapunzel's kinky request. The backside of her diaper received another smack from my hand. The slime within her undergarment sloshed around. The thickened padding continued wiggling and jiggling between the legs of the princess due to having a life of its own after being heavily stuffed by its golden-haired wearer. Her diapers were downright magical in their own right. The Pampers that she wore usually grew bulgier and thicker as a result of being stuffed or used for sexual arousal. Rapunzel let out her best evil-sounding giggle as she proceeded to hump me. I didn’t mind being her kinky playmate. I thought of giving her a piggyback ride after she humped me. Her playtime ceased. I ejaculated into the front of my boxer shorts. She grabbed onto her breasts and squeezed them. I patted her on the head. Rapunzel wasn’t just a good girl. She was the best girl in all of the realms. My good little girl. Whatever seemingly inescapable nightmare this realm was, we would eventually wake up to reality, and we wouldn’t be afraid of any demons who came to greet us with their rude awakening. 

“Do you love me more than you love yourself?” Rapunzel asked me.

“How did you guess?” I replied.

“I just had a feeling that you did.”

Rapunzel knew that she stood out from the other princesses in the Princess Squad. She had the same locks of golden blonde hair as Cinderella and Aurora. She was as adorable as Sofia. Her Highness had always recognized the fact there were no other members of the royal family like her. She was the only-Adult Baby princess that she knew of. Unlike Cinderella and Aurora, her hair was longer than usual due to its supernatural length. Originally, her braided rope of golden hair was seventy-five feet long, but was five feet after being cut. Her five-foot-long hair eventually grew four feet longer. She didn’t care about the change. She adored her nine-foot-long hair. Since we had nothing better to do in the cave but play around, she decided to perform another sultry dance in her diaper for me. Her diapered dances refused to bore or disgust me even when they were drooping and sagging due to how packed they were on the inside. She was my tiny dancer. The lighting in the cave turned purple as a spotlight shined upon Rapunzel from out of nowhere. The spotlight followed her wherever she walked. With her head held high, she elegantly strutted like a proper lady, holding onto her braided ponytail. She smirked smugly in my direction. I immediately knew what the Princess of Pampers planned on doing. She was going to perform yet another flirty dance to win me over. I was already in love with her. Entertaining me was one of her favorite hobbies aside from stuffing and packing her twelve-inch-thick diapers. 

“Guess what?” Rapunzel asked me.

“What?” I replied.

“I’m the best independent baby that you’ll ever get to keep. If you think I’m too good for you, then you’re wrong. I'm cute, I'm sassy, I'm fierce, and I've got fabulously long hair."

“Cute, sassy, and fierce? Then why don’t you perform another one of your diapered dances for me?” I teased. 

“Which diapered dance? Dirty or clean?” Rapunzel giggled.

“A clean dance should shake things up. How about if you did the Floppy Diaper Dance?” 

Rapunzel granted my request. Holding her hands behind her head, she smacked the front of her jam-packed diaper before performing a pelvic thrust. The thrusting of her pelvis soon turned into full-blown twerking. She summoned her frying pan to use as another prop during her diapered dance. Swinging her cast-iron skillet like a true warrior, she whipped her braided ponytail back and forth around her head, while her floppy diaper wildly wobbled back and forth between her legs. Pascal appeared on top of her head to keep his mistress company. The chameleon wasn’t the only one in amazement at Rapunzel’s dance moves. As the pampered princess and her swollen diaper kept on dancing rapidly, my erection grew stronger, since my kinky excitement was higher than usual. Part of me always thought that Rapunzel was cuter in diapers. I even imagined her to be mildly sexy in such thickly padded undergarments which were normally worn by the young and the incontinent. I reminded myself that Rapunzel herself was a childlike but legally aged woman who was small and had potty issues. I kept my eyes and my mind focused on her gyrating hips, her crotch, and the movement of her hair, but especially her crotch. The way that her diaper bulged out between her legs caused me to salivate. I huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf as I watched my little lamb dancing around in her Pampers as if she wasn’t going to stop even if she wanted to. She quickly realized that she was unable to stop dancing as if she was under some sort of spell. The speed of her dancing decreased. While she danced slowly, I noticed something happening to her padding. Her diaper thickened and grew tighter around her waist. The magic of the slime within her diaper was forcing her to wiggle her butt against her will. I noticed a pair of elongated arms emerging from within the cauldron while Rapunzel smacked the front and backside of her diaper to keep the wiggling undergarment under her control. I watched as the arms reached for Rapunzel’s legs. They fastened themselves around the little lady’s ankles and dragged her toward the cauldron. Rapunzel’s screams alerted me to her situation. I couldn’t ignore her or my raging boner. Having removed myself from my chair, I got down on all fours and transformed into my Eurasian wolf form before charging toward Rapunzel. She reached her arms out to me. I was not fast enough to rescue her in time. The monstrous arms which ensnared Rapunzel dragged the screaming princess down into the depths of the cauldron. I knew that things within this realm weren’t always what they seemed or appeared to be. I had no choice to follow her into the belly of the beast in order to rescue her or die trying. I told myself that I wasn't being heroic. I wasn't a good guy nor a bad guy. I wasn't even a half-good, half-bad guy. I was simply a guy.


	10. Down Below in the Depths of the Cauldron of Slime

Falling through a portal or down a well was nothing compared to my descent down into the bowels of the cauldron where I found myself slowly falling through a tunnel which almost felt like a rancid rabbit hole of sorts. The red walls were oozing with orange and yellow slime which gushed forth from holes in the wall. I realized that the walls were actually flesh and muscle. The ooze was undoubtedly some vile form of pus, semen, or other bodily fluid which reeked horribly with the stench of the dirtiest diaper in existence. Dirty diapers reminded me of my precious Rapunzel. Without her, I was lost, and I was confused as to whether I would survive this misadventure or perish before my journey ended. I continued falling for at least thirteen hours before breaking through a hole in the ceiling and landing on the floor in a dungeon without windows. Posing like an animal on my hands and knees, I slowly turned around, my eyes widened in disbelief at what I saw. Rapunzel was restrained against the wall. Her ankles and wrists were shackled with what appeared to be the tightest handcuffs imaginable. A pacifier gag had been placed in her mouth to keep her quiet. I wanted to save her from whatever predicament we had been thrust into. I couldn’t stand up. My hands and knees were frozen in place. 

“What’s going on? Who’s in charge of this place?” I asked.

“I am.”

Zhan Tiri appeared in front of Rapunzel. She reached between the princess’s legs and squeezed her diaper so tightly that globs of slime leaked out from inside the padding. I snarled in wrathful disgust at the sorceress. She was supposed to be dead.

“What is this place?” I demanded.

“This is my happy place,” Zhan Tiri replied.

“Why are you still here? You’re not alive. You shouldn’t be in this room. Rapunzel beheaded you.”

“Did you honestly think that I could be killed so easily by that pesky pampered princess of yours?” Zhan Tiri laughed.

“She’s a badass bruiser in Pampers. She should have dispatched you.”

“But she didn’t.”

Zhan Tiri’s mocking smiles and sadistic giggling didn’t do much except further incite my wrath toward her. 

“You aren’t the only one with a clone, Robert.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Your precious Princess of Pampers didn’t kill me. She killed my copy. Your girlfriend failed, Robert. She failed at defeating me. Now she will be mine.” 

Rapunzel’s eyes became watered with her tears. She sniffled and began to cry at the thought of what her abuser’s sidekick would do with her as her diapered plaything. Zhan Tiri wiggled her fingers while chanting an unintelligible spell in an alien language. She grinned at the distressed princess. Her fingers became tentacles which slithered through the air and inserted themselves into Rapunzel’s diaper in order to grotesquely tickle her in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

“Coochie, coochie, coo, little baby!” Zhan Tiri cackled. 

I closed my eyes and laid down on the floor. My ears were covered to deafen the sound of Rapunzel’s tormented screams and cries. My baby girl was being tortured by the one woman I despised the most. Zhan Tiri was the ultimate demon to end all demons. She was perverted, sadistic, heartless, and wholeheartedly disdainful. Nothing about her was human. Everything about her was undeniably monstrous. The brainchild of Gothel needed to be taught a lesson by yours truly. She needed to pay the rightful price for her crimes against Rapunzel and Cassandra. Removing my shirt, I charged headfirst at Zhan Tiri, knocking that ungodly witch to the floor where I kicked her in the face three times in a row before punching her in the stomach and tearing off her fingers with my teeth. I wasn’t the only werewolf in the room. My clone was also there to help me. While I chowed down on the demon’s fingers as if they were merely chicken tenders, my clone grabbed Zhan Tiri from underneath her shoulders and withdrew a knife from inside his shirt, stabbing her in the groin. He pulled the knife out. I grabbed his weapon from him and decided to finish Zhan Tiri off in true Demon Barber fashion. I slashed the blade across her throat. The flesh opened, spouting out blood from the wound which sprayed out of her neck like a sprinkler. Her body collapsed onto the floor. She was dead and gone. Good riddance to inhuman garbage. My clone and I fist-bumped each other. 

“Good job,” I said to myself.

“You’re welcome,” my clone replied.

Together, with the power of my clone, I released Rapunzel from her unwanted bondage and hugged her. She was relieved to be free from her restraints. We looked down at the corpse of Zhan Tiri. A banshee’s scream released itself from the demon’s lips before the body decayed and the skeleton dissolved into ashen dust which was swept away by the wind. Zhan Tiri was no more. Rapunzel was finally waking up from her personal nightmare. No more witches or demons for her. 

“Hey, big boy?” Rapunzel whispered to me.

“Yes, little baby girl?” I asked.

“Do you want to know why I love stuffing my diapers so much?” Her Highness replied. 

“Because you love how your stuffed diapers feel?” I answered.

“My stuffed diapers thicken as they get big and squishy when they’re full of slime or poop. I enjoy the feeling of my packed Pampers because it makes me feel like the grown-up child that I truly am on the inside. It’s the ultimate form of sensory heaven for me.” 

“You’re such a goofy baby. You know that? Right?” I chuckled.

“I’m your goofy baby girl,” Rapunzel acknowledged. 

“Does my goofy baby girl need to have her diaper changed now or later?” I wondered.

“May I please be changed later?” Rapunzel begged.

“As you wish.”

We decided to dance around in the dungeon like a pair of hyperactive nerds who were plunged into the world of a live-action adaptation of _Dungeons & Dragons _but with weird fetishes and kinky danger. Rapunzel didn’t mind that her squishy diaper was dripping with the inky residue from the severed tentacles of Zhan Tiri. She was only focused on having fun with me. I was her babysitter. She was the baby. We were an adorable team. I gave Rapunzel’s padding a soft but firm squeeze. She appreciated being squeezed since it represented how much I loved her. To me, Rapunzel was the type of princess who practically belonged in diapers. They fit her perfectly and snugly almost as if her Pampers were made for her to wear. We decided to escape from the dungeon after our lovely little dance as a couple. Our exit came in the form of a mechanical door which unlocked itself and opened to let us through. Rapunzel held onto my hand as we stepped through the doorway. We entered an octagonal chamber which contained a treasure chest with an ebony door behind it. An ivory-skinned succubus with eyes of hellfire and blackened lips sat on top of the chest. She was dressed in the black-and-white garments of a Catholic nun. I knew who she was without even guessing. 

“You shall not pass!” the succubus screeched. 

“Who’s that?” Rapunzel asked.

“She is Valak, the Profane Defiler,” I told Rapunzel. 

“Who?” Rapunzel replied.

“The Marquis of Snakes. The Harlot of Nightmares. The Blasphemous Harridan.”

“Now you’re just being overly dramatic for the sake of sounding theatrical,” my clone said to me.

“Shut up!” I snapped at myself. 

The demon hissed at me. I roared in her face. Valak cowered to defend herself. She was more afraid of me. Why wouldn’t she be? Demons were the enemies of werewolves. Werewolves were a demon’s worst nightmare. I decided to choose the easy way out of this situation rather than resorting to violence. Honestly, I had enough blood on my hands already, and I was tired from killing my thirteenth demon. I wasn’t in the mood to messily kill another monster with my bare hands or my clone as my assistant. I simply snapped my fingers. A sacred potion appeared in my hands. I threw the potion onto the floor. The bottle shattered, spilling its contents all over Valak. The crimson liquid burned her skin and melted her eyeballs out of their sockets before the rest of her body dissolved, leaving only her sacred clothing behind as a reminder of her blasphemous existence. I opened the treasure chest to see what was inside. A trio of three-headed hellhounds leaped out of the chest and landed on their paws, snarling at me as I slowly stepped away from them. These fiendish canines were the offspring of Valak who had escaped from their prison to avenge the demise of their unholy mistress. Conjuring a nine-tailed whip, I kept the beasts at bay, mercilessly whipping them into submission with my lupine fury. Rapunzel whimpered and reached inside of her jam-packed diaper from which she procured a pair of bright pink headphones. She placed the headphones over her ears to block out the audible chaos that was going on within the chamber of the dungeon. The hellhounds eventually laid down and died. They weren’t playing dead. They were dead for real. I turned around and smiled at the frightened princess. I noticed that Rapunzel’s diapers were thicker than her braided ponytail. Dropping my whip, I ran over to the Princess of Pampers and lifted her into my arms to protectively embrace her while giving her diapered bottom plenty of loving pats, squeezes, and rubs to display my affectionate love for her. 

“Big boy?” Rapunzel asked.

“Little baby girl?” I replied.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I’m ready when you are.”

The door opened to reveal a staircase leading upward into the outdoors. I carried Rapunzel upstairs and outside where the graveyard in the wilderness awaited us. I laid Rapunzel down on a rectangular mauve blanket where she kept her legs open as she sucked her thumb while looking at me. She couldn’t take her eyes off of me. 

“Is my little lamb ready to have her slimy diaper changed?” I cooed. 

Rapunzel lifted her legs up, keeping them open as she continued sucking on her thumb like a compliant little girl. Her jam-packed diaper wiggled and jiggled on its own. For all I knew, she had been wearing that thing for hours, and the fact that her stuffed diaper was sentient was starting to bother me somehow. I didn’t care that she enjoyed stuffing her diapers. The idea of her diaper being alive due to being filled with the Netherworld counterpart of Flubber somehow rubbed me the wrong way. The playfully faux innocence behind her emerald eyes bewitched me. Rapunzel slowly loosened the tapes of her diaper and opened up the padding to reveal that she had wet herself. I replaced her slimy diaper with a fresh one simply because it was one of my sacred duties as her caregiver and her babysitter. The changing of her diapers was as easy as cleaning up after a literal toddler, which was weird, since I despised children. Her babyish giggles and babbles turned me on. I told my clone that I was afraid of hurting her. He assured me that I was a good boy. The best boy. The biggest, baddest boy. I pressed my hand against the newly diapered crotch of the Princess of Pampers which resulted in giving her a gentle rubdown. The rubdown soothed her. My erotic massage made her feel as relaxed and peaceful as a lamp during naptime. She was my freshly baptized baby with a rebel streak lurking behind her innocently harmless facade. Like a pinup girl of stereotypically German beauty, she batted her eyelashes on me, having replaced her thumb with her strawberry pacifier so she could suck on something that wasn’t attached to her body. I picked Rapunzel up from her changing mat and carried her over my shoulder. We continued our walk through the graveyard. Nothing was heard but dead silence. 

“It’s too quiet in this graveyard,” Rapunzel pointed out.

“Too quiet?” I asked.

“Something doesn’t feel right here. Something feels wrong.”

I noticed a five-foot-eight statue of a weeping angel standing three feet away from me. I stared at the statue before making the mistake of blinking. The weeping angel was no longer a figment of angelic beauty. She had transformed into a screeching harpy from the darkest depths of Tartarus itself. The harpy snapped at me, swiping at my face as she attempted to snatch Rapunzel from my arms in order to have my precious pampered princess all to herself. Rapunzel kept her eyes and legs closed as best as she could. I did my best to protect her from this granite demon. 

“Fuck off!” I roared at the harpy.

The statue’s head exploded into shards. I ducked and covered myself to avoid being hit with the shattered granite. I checked Rapunzel’s diaper to make sure that my little princess was okay. She remained clean and dry for the time being. We exited the graveyard by walking along the northeastern road which led us into a clearing. I looked down at my feet. The road on which we walked had vanished. A gruesome sight surrounded us within the clearing that we entered. The mangled bodies of wingless fairies and topless mermaids were nailed to the trunks of trees within the northeastern woods as a visual display of macabre art which was clearly meant to be a fantasy-themed mockery of Christ’s crucifixion. Rapunzel kept her arms tightly wrapped around me. She wanted me to protect herself from whatever danger we presumed was lurking behind the trees or the bushes in the wilderness. My clone grabbed my sword from my belt and pointed my weapon at the trees. He demanded for the threat to show itself to our group. Unexpectedly but surprisingly, Anna emerged from her hiding place behind one of the larger trees. The Norwegian monarch wielded a meat cleaver and carried her picnic basket. 

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rapunzel’s wife apologized.

“What were you doing?” I asked.

“I was trying to find a way out of this realm. There doesn’t seem to be a portal around here. Not even an enchanted door or a pair of silver slippers. Not a single magic bean in sight.”

“So we’re trapped?” Rapunzel replied in a baby voice, sucking on her fingers to ease her fear. 

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t want to be trapped here! I want to go home so I can have sex with you and Robert! I want humpies, cuddles, snuggles, and hugs!” Rapunzel sniffled.

“I want what you want, little one, but I’m not sure if we can make your desires come true if there isn’t an exit out of our situation. We need to find a way to get out of this realm and back to our kingdom. If there’s a situation, we will always find a lantern to illuminate the darkness, won’t we? We can do anything as long we’re together.” 

Anna’s words were true. She and Rapunzel were an unconventional couple who had embarked on many strange, daring, and often dangerous adventures together over the past eight years, even before they were properly married. Rapunzel was less optimistic. The idea of being trapped in the Netherworld was worse than being imprisoned in her tower. Not having a way out meant that she would never see her friends and family again. The spouse of Rapunzel suggested to us that it was best if we split up and found our way through the forest in search of an exit. I advised against splitting up since I told her that doing so would more than likely result in one of us being murdered by a demon or strangled by some other inhuman monstrosity in the physical form of a heartless fiend who made this realm their playground to call home. 


	11. No Way Out

Our group walked in circles around the wilderness in search of an exit to pass through and awaken from this nightmarish experience. There were no doors or portals to be found. Rapunzel was right about there being no escape from the Netherworld. We were trapped in our own fairy tale of terror with no happy ending in sight. I sat down on a rectangular bench with an oblong pillow next to me. Rapunzel released herself from me and landed on the ground where she undressed. She climbed onto the bench. I watched Her Highness as she opened her legs, sat down on the pillow, and began riding the cushion to keep herself busy. Humping pillows in her diapers was one of her favorite forms of playtime whenever she was in a kinky mood. The thickness of her diaper created the illusion that her butt was bigger than it actually was. That was the beauty of her Pampers. Diapers made her butt look thick. I thought that thick diapers added on to her naturally childlike cuteness. 

“Well, if there’s no way out of the Netherworld, we might as well make the best out of a bad situation,” I said to myself.

“Sounds like a plan,” Rapunzel replied.

“Are you doing okay, Goldilocks?” I asked.

“I’m doing fine,” Rapunzel replied, humping the pillow harder and faster than she had ever humped before. 

“Do you enjoy doing humpies like that?” I chuckled.

“I love humpies. They are relaxing and comfy. They also help me make cummies in my diapers.”

“Making cummies?” I repeated.

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Who is my kinky little girl? You are!” I teased.

The Princess of Pampers giggled as she happily humped her pillow without worries, cares, or stress to bring her down. She was my small and precious baby. What Rapunzel meant that humping her pillows in her diapers helped her to produce semen which her padding absorbed. “Making cummies” was her special term for the dirty deed which she referred to in a suitably babyish manner as part of her alternative lifestyle as an Adult-Baby princess. There was a time when I was deeply disturbed by the concepts of diaper fetishism and infantilism. More close-minded, misinformed, and vanilla folks would have been less accepting of people like Rapunzel. These folks went by name names. Soccer moms. Radically extremist warriors of social justice. Moral guardians. These conservative members of mainstream society would have stupidly mistaken this particular fetish to be pedophilic in nature despite the fact that only adults were involved within the community. For some Adult-Babies, it was simply a lifestyle, not a kink or a fetish. Unlike the kinky fetishists, non-sexual Adult-Babies preferred to indulge their inner children by being cared for and protected by their partners, since the sexual aspect was not their cup of tea. Obviously, I wasn’t an Adult-Baby. I was the open-minded caregiver of a disabled princess whose fetish was both a lifestyle and a kinky expression of her identity. When I was younger, I thought that kink-shaming was healthy, but it proved to be detrimental to my worldview. Kink-shaming pests were simply a community of small-minded bigots engaging in their own form of bigotry by fearing and disrespecting what they refused to understand. 

“Is your diaper getting sticky and wet now?” I asked Rapunzel.

“It’s getting there,” Rapunzel replied. 

“How does it feel when your diaper is cummy?” I wondered.

“It feels wonderful!”

Once Rapunzel was finished with riding her cushion, she raised her arms in the air and asked to be picked up. I granted her request. I lifted her from underneath her armpits and held her in my hairy arms. My embrace was as warm and comforting as she remembered. 

“Do you have any ideas on how to get out of here?” Rapunzel asked. 

“Maybe I could try conjuring an enchanted door?” I replied.

My question was answered. My subconscious sorcery summoned a lavender-and-gold door which appeared to be artistically crafted in authentic Bavarian fashion. The door was the same color scheme as the royal flag of Corona. The gilded doorknob was in the shape of a golden Sundrop flower which gleamed and glowed in the dark. I knew where this door led to. It was a portal to Rapunzel’s homeland. 

“That was easy.”

Anna and Rabbi Merlin appeared behind the bench. 

“Guess what, honey? Robert found our way out of this realm,” Rapunzel told her spouse.

“Thanks,” Anna replied to me.

“Now we can all go home,” Merlin said. 

I placed Her Highness on the ground. Anna, Merlin, and Rapunzel held hands with each other. I held Rapunzel’s free hand and walked with her toward the door. The door opened by itself. We passed through to the other side. Our group returned to the restroom where this entire misadventure started. I turned around. The door was gone. We were out of the woods. 


	12. Our Little World

Anna and Rabbi Merlin exited the restroom to return to the party in the ballroom, leaving Rapunzel and me alone to do whatever with each other. No time had passed in Corona during our misadventures in the Netherworld. I laid Rapunzel down on the changing table where she undressed herself. I tickled her and blew raspberries on her tummy. She giggled as I played with her. I playfully nibbled on her left thigh. The Princess of Pampers screamed through her giggles. I had broken the skin as my own twisted way of giving my love to her. Reaching inside my diaper bag, I took out a bandage, unwrapped it, and soothingly placed it over the flesh wound.

“Will I turn into a werewolf?” Rapunzel wondered.

“No, but your senses will be heightened and your sex drive will never be the same again,” I replied. 

“Do you think I look cuter in just my diaper and stockings?” Her Highness asked. 

“You always look cuter when you’re in diapers. Your diapers are part of your identity. Be true to yourself. Don’t let anybody change you except when you actually need to be changed. You are my baby angel in Pampers. I am your sexy werewolf in sheep’s wool. Your biggest, baddest boy.”

A bright pink vibrator appeared between Rapunzel’s legs. She grabbed the kinky toy and turned it on. I stood silently as I watched the Queen’s daughter gently pleasure herself. Rapunzel beckoned to me to join on in the naughty fun. I sat down on the changing table beside her and placed the little princess in my lap as I seated myself against the wall. Rapunzel kept her legs open in case I wished to play with her. She ran her fingers through her golden locks, undoing her braided ponytail and letting her hair down as she did many times before in the past ten years. I playfully asked her if the carpet matched the drapes. She told me that she knew as well as she did that it certainly did not since her pussy was hairless. 

“I bet if your pussy had hair, it would have the same scent of fresh linen and lavender that your diapers do,” I replied.

“But would it be manageable?” Rapunzel asked.

“Manageable? What do you mean?” I wondered.

“Would my vaginal hair be the same length as my golden locks?” Rapunzel clarified. 

“It better not be.”

“I’m presuming that you prefer me with nine-foot-long locks of golden hair rather than an extremely hairy pussy?” Her Highness asked. 

“That is correct.” 

“Does your baby girl get a cookie for correct presumptions and guesses?” Rapunzel replied.

“No, but she does get an hour of playtime with her babysitter.”

“What game do you want to play?” Rapunzel asked.

“Do you wish to find out?” I answered.

I answered my own question by reaching between Rapunzel’s legs and grabbing onto the twelve-inch-thick padding which was fastened around her crotch and butt. Her diaper was extremely soft to the touch. I spent an hour in the restroom by fondly squeezing, smacking, and squishing Rapunzel’s diapered crotch so that both of us were satisfied enough to wet ourselves in our respective undergarments. Whether they were stuffed with slimy globs of semen or slime, there was no denying that Rapunzel adored pleasuring herself in her diapers, and I knew how much she desired to satisfy her kink cravings in the name of self-stimulation. As I played with Rapunzel’s diaper, I developed an idea for a verbal game that we could play together.

“How about if we take turns naming things that we seriously despise and honestly love?” I asked.

“Do you want me or you to go first?” Rapunzel replied.

“I will go first. Your turn will come after mine. Are you okay with that?”

  
  
“I’m okay,” Rapunzel answered. 

From the top of my head, I listed the things that I truly adored and desperately loathed. 

“I seriously despise ableism, loud noises, pedophiles, lima beans, rapists, carrots, green beans, Autism Speaks, kink-shaming, crowded spaces, bigotry, Nazism, childish drama, disrespectful behavior, yelling, gaslighting, heated arguments, being a misunderstood loner, my past sins, and my younger self. I love you, Anna, the Princess Squad, diaper bags, Halloween, fairy tales, chicken nuggets, being your babysitter, Gothic literature, reindeer, sausages, wolves, Adult-Babies, scary movies, birds, and a bunch of other things.”

“Yay! Now it’s my turn!” Rapunzel giggled.

I kept my mouth shut. It was Rapunzel’s turn to info-dump.

“Firstly, I hate potties. Chamber pots and toilets are the bane of my existence. I also despise my abuser, Zhan Tiri, Puritanical parents, racism, kink-shaming bigots, cruelty towards animals, the idea of being forced to be potty-trained against your will, wicked witches, the demonization of diapers and their convenient benefits, actual demons, the bad kind of werewolves, rapists, and other predators. I love you, my pacifier, being autistic, my beautiful wife, living in my nursery, vibrators, fairies, making cummies, baby bottles, teddy bears, consensual bondage, twerking, bedtime stories, water balloons, rattles, slime, diapers, stripping, humping my oblong pillows, flowers, kinky playtime, skimpy dirndls, dancing, playing chess, picnics, chameleons, thigh-high stockings, French braids, macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, my trusty frying pan, my tower, my friends and family, and also being the wildly independent baby at heart whom I always wanted to be after my abuser met her downfall. I don’t mind being born different. I just try to avoid the haters when trouble arises.” 

“Are diapers your main special interest?” I asked.

“Yes, they are,” Rapunzel confirmed.

“Did you know that Pampers have been around for fifty-nine years?” I replied.

“Those diapers are older than me,” Rapunzel chortled.

"Are they thick and cushy enough for you?" I asked.

"They're the thickest and the cushiest."

“My precious Princess of Pampers deserves to have proper padded protection for her pussy and posterior. Those diaper sure do complement those thick thighs of yours while also giving you a thicker ass and a perfectly cushy crotch.”

Rapunzel giggled at my response. She squealed as I smacked her bottom. She slapped my back in return. We giggled at each other’s antics. It was just the two of us in the restroom of the palace. A pair of autistic adults with inner children who expressed themselves differently and played in their own little worlds which they shared with each other so neither of them were alone. A big, bad boy and his sweet little girl. They truly deserved each other’s company. Our playtime continued in the nursery that afternoon. Rapunzel laid herself down on the carpeted floor. With her thumb in her mouth and Pascal cuddled close to her chest, she lifted her legs up and opened them, glancing over at me. I was kneeling down on the floor beside her. I had removed my breeches and was currently in the process of discarding my boxer shorts. If I was going to her animal, I might as well play the part in a convincingly realistic manner. Real wolves did not wear clothes. I was naked. Rapunzel was wearing only her pink-and-white bib and her diaper. My hungry snarls alerted her to my carnal cravings for the physical pleasures of our kinky indoor playground. She knew what both of us desired. I swiftly crawled over to Rapunzel. The submissive princess whimpered as I grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her down. She was my prey in our consensual game of the ravenous wolf with dark chocolate eyes and the timid lamb with a golden blonde fleece. She made baby sheep noises as I gave her diapered crotch a kiss. Raspberries were blown on her tummy. She giggled as she wiggled. She was my wiggly little lamb. I admired how submissive and compliant she was during our playtime in the nursery. Playtime was interrupted by my clone. He grabbed me by the arm and pinned me against the wall. Rapunzel screamed my name. She ordered my clone to let go of me. My other self refused to listen. 

“Do you honestly think that the Princess of Pampers actually loves you?” my clone growled at me. 

“She loves me truly,” I gasped.

“Rapunzel loves Anna. Not you. You bewitched her with your beastly charms and turned her against her spouse. You’re the monster that the Puritans know you to be. You are not a handsome knight or a charming prince. You’re a beast. You always have been and you will always be. You don’t make heroes out of monsters.”

"Shut up!" I snarled at my clone.

My clone kicked me in the stomach. I ducked as he attempted to punch me.

"You're a disgusting freak who's uglier than Gothel herself. Your diaper fetish is perverted. You are truly a loathsome menace." 

"There is only one loathsome menace in this nursery," I argued. 

"Yeah, and he gets his kicks by fucking a twenty-eight-year-old princess who roleplays as a baby."

"She's adorable," I replied.

"She's disgusting. Just like you."

"Hold your tongue!" I snapped.

"You aren't the boss of me."

The hateful words which spewed like spittle from my clone’s mouth infuriated me beyond belief. Transforming back into my Eurasian wolf form, I grabbed my clone by the throat, holding him down. His eyes became consumed with fear as I snarled in his face. Nobody talked shit about me. If you messed with Rapunzel, then shame on you. If you messed me, you would either be lucky enough to be spared or have your pathetic neck snapped before your head was torn from your shoulders in a gruesome bloodbath. 

“Let go of me, you monster!” my clone pleaded.

I looked at ourselves in the mirror. I was dressed as the Beast. My clone was Gaston. I realized who he truly was. He wasn’t my friend. He was the embodiment of my flaws. He represented everything that was wrong with me. He was my self-hatred and my anxiety. My personal bully. My own worst enemy. 

“I am not a monster.”

My clone was released from my clutches. His body dropped onto the floor. I rushed over to Rapunzel and cuddled with her. She held onto me. We watched as my nemesis reached into the pocket of his breeches. He retrieved a handgun. The handgun was aimed at my heart. I braced myself for the bullet to put me out of my misery. I heard a click but no gunfire. I guess we knew who was the real winner in this battle between the man and the monster. I gave my clone the middle finger. He fired a finger gun at me. An invisible bullet shot through the air and into my heart. I clutched my chest as I fell over on my side. Rapunzel stood over me. The bullet became visible. It was as small and round as a thimble. The bullet was silver. She removed the bullet from the wound using only her fingers. Pascal appeared next to me. He was no longer tiny but the size of a puppy. Like a rabid dog, he charged at my clone, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and tearing into his throat with his teeth. He tore pieces of skin from the wound while lapping up his enemy’s blood like it was water. Rapunzel cheered for her chameleon while tending to my wound. I wasn’t dying. I was just exhausted. All I wanted was to be with Rapunzel. My enemy ruined the moment. 

“Are you going to be okay?” Rapunzel asked.

“Sweetie, I’m a werewolf of color,” I replied. “It’s common knowledge that werewolves of color are normally invulnerable to fatal wounds unlike their white-skinned counterparts. I will be fine.”

“Do you need anything? Chicken nuggets? A sippy cup of juice?” Rapunzel offered. 

“Chicken nuggets sound delicious.” 

We were too busy caught up in our romantic moment to witness my clone being set aflame somehow and burned alive. His body crumbled into ashen dust which dissolved in three seconds. I was beginning to think that Corona was seven times weirder than the Netherworld. Before Rapunzel could fetch my chicken nuggets and my sippy cup, I crawled on top of her, making it look as if I was busy humping her. Queen Arianna walked into the nursery. She looked down at us.

“What are you doing?” Rapunzel’s mother asked. 

“Hello, Mommy,” Rapunzel replied.

"Why is Robert humping you?" the King's wife inquired.

“We are having playtime in our nursery.”

“Having playtime? Why aren’t you in the ballroom? The guards and maids are serving buffalo wings for brunch."

“I’m not hungry,” I replied.

“I thought you were?” Rapunzel argued.

“Not right now.”

“What about you?” Queen Arianna asked her daughter.

“I’m currently not in the mood for food or partying,” Rapunzel admitted. 

“Okay, that’s fine with me,” the King’s wife sighed. “I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

“See you later, Your Majesty,” I replied.

“In a while, Robert. Take good care of my little girl for me.”

“I will,” I promised.

Her Majesty exited the nursery. I decided to spice up playtime by dressing Rapunzel in a pink-and-purple corset and her pink-and-purple striped stockings. Handcuffs were fastened around her wrists. A dog collar was worn around her neck. The collar was symbolic since it showed that she was the puppy to my wolf aside from her role as my precious little lamb. She agreed to everything.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with the bondage?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not like I’m being held captive by a demon or a witch, since you wouldn’t dream of hurting me,” Rapunzel chuckled.

“You always seemed like the submissive type due to your upbringing and your personality."

"Is that a good thing?" Rapunzel asked.

"I don't know, if you want an honest answer. Please be aware that dominating you doesn’t involve forcing you to do things that are unhealthy or dangerous. I want you to be safe during our playtime.”

“I know,” Rapunzel replied.

"I would never do anything to hurt my small and precious baby girl."

The scantily-clad princess was handcuffed to a phallic pole which was erected in the middle of the floor. Beside her was an orange cauldron of pumpkin slime. We were acting out a bondage-themed version of a certain nursery rhyme involving the caretaker of a pumpkin patch and the loose wife whom he couldn’t keep but was held captive inside of a giant pumpkin so that she wouldn’t leave her husband’s side. I laughed like an evil farmer as I reached inside the cauldron and grabbed a handful of slime which I shoved down the front of Rapunzel’s diaper. I remembered that stuffed diapers full of slime were her greatest sensory pleasure. She wiggled around as I continued packing her Pampers until they thickened and bulged out between her legs. Her bulky diaper was always a pleasurable sight for my wolf’s eyes. The Princess of Pampers gasped, moaned, and screamed aloud out of joy rather than fear as her dominant partner squeezed her squishy diaper. She loved playing with me. I loved to play with her. We were playmates together. 

“How do you like that slime, my little pumpkin?” I teased.

“It’s so good!” Rapunzel giggled. 

“Would you rather have your diaper stuffed with more pumpkin or curds and whey?” I asked.

“Curds and whey? What’s that?” Rapunzel wondered.

“It’s an old-fashioned term for cottage cheese.”

“Sorry, but that sounds gross, so more pumpkin for my Pampers.”

I made Rapunzel’s wish into my command. Her diaper was stuffed with more pumpkin slime. The princess stood up. Her diaper was drooping all the way down to her toes. I smacked her heavy padding before giving it more loving squishes and squeezes to keep myself busy. My beautiful Rapunzel was entangled by the braided ropes of her own fetishtic desires and fantasies. The weirdly desperate noises she made proved that she was starting to sound like a sheepish baby rather than a baby sheep. I shoved her strawberry pacifier into her mouth to keep her quiet. She compliantly sucked on her pacifier like the good little girl that she was. I was proud of myself for caring for such a shameless but submissive princess. 

“Why are you so damn adorable?!” I roared. 

“I don’t know?” Rapunzel whimpered. 

The tone of my voice frightened the little princess. She sniffled and began to cry due to how scared I made her. 

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” I apologized. “Please don’t cry. Seeing you cry just makes me want to cry along with you.”

“You scared me!” Rapunzel screamed at me.

“I know, and I didn’t mean to do that.” 

“That’s okay. You just scared me a little bit.”

I released Rapunzel from her handcuffs, wrapped my arms around her waist, and hugged her to make her feel better. I knew that she didn’t get scared easily but that didn’t stop her from becoming emotionally overwhelmed when things got out of control or too hot for her to handle. I gently patted Rapunzel on her bottom as I usually did whenever I wished to comfort her. She was my small and precious baby girl. I heard her yawn. It appeared that Her Highness was getting sleepy. I placed the Princess of Pampers in her crib. I kissed her on the forehead after tucking her in and squeezing her diaper. Pascal kept his mistress company beside her pillow where she rested her sleepy head.

“Good night, my beautiful baby girl."


	13. Squad Goals

I walked out of the nursery and returned to the ballroom where I found Cinderella, Adira, Cassandra, Tiana, the Beast, Anna, Belle, the Captain of the Guard, and Snow White sitting with Rapunzel’s mother at one of the circular tables. The other guests had gone home to their respective kingdoms and fabled realms after the party was over. Rabbi Merlin was one of those guests. The royal women were drinking fruit punch from shot glasses and eating grilled cheese sandwiches to pass the time. Cinderella smiled at me. I bowed to Her Highness and did my best to appear friendly even though I felt awkward. 

“How is everybody?” I asked, sitting between the Captain and Cinderella. 

“We’re bored, so we decided to linger after the other guests left,” Cinderella replied. 

“Where’s Rapunzel?” Snow White asked. 

“She’s asleep in her crib. I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight before leaving her in the nursery. I hope that no demons or witches steal her away from me in the dead of night. Her Majesty knows that we don’t deserve to have Rapunzel taken from us again. Both the Queen and her daughter have been through too much tragedy together.”

“Amen to that,” Queen Arianna replied.

"The little baby girl of Her Majesty is the love of my life," I sighed.

“Are you her boyfriend?” Cinderella asked.

“I’m not her fucking boyfriend! I’m her bodyguard, her caregiver, and her babysitter!” I growled at Tiana’s wife.

Cinderella screamed and hid behind Adira. The Asian warrior rolled her eyes at her French companion. Belle was amused by my outburst since she knew how it felt to be the love interest of a beastly man who was pure of heart but wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. 

“You remind me of the Beast,” Belle remarked.

“Which beast?” I asked. 

“The Beast with the power.”

“What power?” I replied.

“The power of romance.”

The Beast smiled and pointed at himself. 

“We could be brothers from different mothers,” I suggested to Belle’s husband.

“But we have different lovers,” the Beast argued. “You have an Adult-Baby princess with eyes of emerald and braided hair of spun gold. I have a French peasant-turned-princess with auburn eyes and dark brown hair. Both of them are married women. Both of them are royalty. Their personalities are polar opposites. Belle loves books. Rapunzel loves diapers and baby stuff.”

“And I love both of those ladies,” I replied.

“Do you live in a chateau?” Belle asked.

“Actually, I used to live in Merlin’s cottage back in southern Wales, but now my home is Rapunzel’s palace. A palace is grander and more spacious than a cottage. The areas of the palace include two nurseries, the throne room which is also a ballroom and a banquet hall, three bedrooms, a spa, four bathrooms, a library, three kitchens, a stable within the dungeon, and a lovely garden in the courtyard.” 

“Tiana’s palace is more impressive,” Cinderella remarked.

“Excuse me?” Queen Arianna replied.

“Our palace makes Rapunzel’s house look like a mansion,” Tiana boasted.

"What is she talking about?" I asked Tiana's wife. 

"Allow me to explain," Cinderella replied.

"Okay," I said.

“The palace of Tiana is a restaurant inside a castle inside a fortress within a swamp located in the northern area of the bayou within a forest on the outskirts of the Cajun village. Cindy used to refer to me as the Firefly Queen because I light up the room as the life of the party with my cuisine and my hospitable service.” 

“Tiana likes to boast about her cooking and her success simply because she’s jealous about the fact that Rapunzel is thirteen times more popular than she is,” Cinderella whispered to me.

“I heard that!” Tiana snapped.

“Well, it’s true,” Cinderella replied. 

“Listen, I don’t hate Rapunzel, but doesn’t anybody else think it’s weird that I’ve been upstaged by an Adult-Baby princess with a diaper fetish and a history of scalping her enemies? This is the same woman who is clearly independent but prefers being treated like a baby by her caregivers,” Tiana pointed out. “She’s famous. I’m underrated. Is it because I’m dark-skinned?”

“Maybe?” I assumed.

“That was rhetorical.” 

“Sorry,” I snarled.

“Tiana, I understand what it feels like to be considered less popular than the leading lady,” Anna said to Naveen’s wife. “You’re not alone.”

“You’re just saying that because you have an older sister and I’m an only child,” Tiana replied. 

“Renounce your negative attitude and jealousy toward Rapunzel. Don’t let your envy hold you back. Let it go.”

“Let it go?” Tiana laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“Perhaps Tiana can be one of her caregivers?” I laughed.

“Hell to the no!” Tiana complained. “I’m not changing the dirty diapers of that little lady. I’m not anybody’s babysitter or caregiver. I am the manager of my own restaurant in my palace. This is who I am. I am not changing myself for nobody. Not even an Adult-Baby princess with a tragic backstory but weird taste in kinks and fetishes.”

“To each their own,” the Beast growled.

“Amen to that,” Belle and Cinderella agreed.

“May I please say something?” I asked.

“What?” Tiana replied.

“I love all of my favorite princesses and Queens equally. Nobody is better or worse. They are their own ladies.”

“You took the words right out of my mind and put them in your mouth,” Belle replied.

“Thank you?” I answered.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you a prince?” Tiana asked.

“Me? A prince?” I laughed. “No, Your Majesty, I am a commoner in prince’s clothing. A werewolf in sheep’s wool.”

“A werewolf? I knew it. Can’t you see how hairy he is? Plus, his claws are pedicured,” Belle whispered to her husband. 

“I can hear you,” I replied.

Belle and the Beast smiled at me. I didn’t smile back this time. 

“If you’re not royalty but a commoner pretending to be royal, then who are your parents?” Tiana asked.

“I’m an orphan,” I confessed.

“So are we!” Cinderella, Anna, and Snow White cheered.

“You make yourselves sound if being an orphaned child is something to be proud of. You do realize that’s not good? Right?”

“I think they’re aware,” Tiana whispered to me.

“Let’s change the subject,” Queen Arianna announced to the group. 

“What subject do you want to discuss?” I asked.

“Let’s talk about Rapunzel’s friends and family,” Snow White said. 

“What about Rapunzel’s friends and family?” Tiana wondered.

“Next month, sometime during the first week, Cassandra and I will flee through a magic bean-generated portal from Corona to the northeastern side of Tokyo in order to find the portal to an eastern Asian kingdom where nostalgia, childhood spirits, and demons dwell,” Adira revealed.

"What's this eastern Asian kingdom that you speak of?" Tiana asked.

“It’s a hidden Japanese fairyland which welcomes outsiders but shuns European tourists.”

“What’s this Japanese fairyland called?” Cinderella asked.

“Ghibli. The Land of Ghibli.” 

“Why are you going there?” I replied.

“Because I’m bored with this kingdom but also because Cassandra wants to meet Momo. Momo is her one true love. She’s seriously in love with Chicken Mom even though she is thoroughly convinced that the _Ubume_ herself is an Asian Cryptid and not a member of the _Yokai_ family. She even packed her Momo mask and her Goth schoolgirl outfit for the trip. I will be bringing my katan with me in case any monsters disrupt our journey.” 

“Isn’t Momo evil?” Cinderella argued.

“Actually, she’s a vengeful mother who avenged the murder of her children by killing her ex-husband and his goons,” Adira explained. 

“Does she want to adopt Cassandra?” I asked.

“Once we arrive in Ghibli, we shall ask Momo if she wishes to adopt Cassandra, and then we’ll be one big, happy family.”

“What exactly does Momo look like?” Belle asked.

“Momo is a half-bird widow with no children or husband. She has large eyes but no eyebrows, a wide smile without teeth, dark hair that comes down to her waist, the talons and wings of a chicken, wide hips, medium breasts, and a thick booty. She looks scary but is actually pissed off at how her image has been misrepresented by the American media. Momo does not take kindly to those who demonize her.”

“Did you know that Momo has a wife now?” I informed the group.

“Since when did Momo have a wife?” Tiana asked.

“Chicken Mom has been married for eighteen years. Her spouse is Yubaba. She’s the manager of a bathhouse for spirits and the mother of a giant baby named Boh. The baby is potty-trained. Like Momo, Yubaba is a maternal bird, but she’s also a witch with the power to turn your loved ones into gluttonous pigs or steal your name and keep it for herself once she’s enslaved you as one of her restless workers. She’s a huge fan of food.” 

“Both Momo and Yubaba sound terrifying,” Snow White replied.

“These women aren’t as scary as the American media makes them out to be.” 

“How do you know? Have you met them?” Snow White argued. 

“No, but I know who they are, and I’ve read their stories in one of Merlin’s books. It’s best to not be deceived by appearances. True beauty is found within.” 

“You sound just like me,” Belle laughed.

“Anyway, I’m heading back to the nursery,” I yawned. “Good night, ladies. Have sweet dreams and peaceful slumber.”

“Good night, Robert!”

Exiting the throne room, I transformed back into a Eurasian wolf and returned to the nursery. I crawled inside Rapunzel’s crib where I slept with her and kept her warm in my embrace. 


	14. Fitzherbert and Strongbow

“Wakie, wakie, little baby girl.”

Rapunzel woke up in my arms to the feeling of having her diaper squished and squeezed by my hands. Her Pampers were still slimy after being stuffed to the brim. The padding was dangerously full to bursting despite not leaking or exploding due to how packed it was from last night’s playtime in the royal nursery. The crib was large enough to support both of us. I snapped my fingers. The curtains closed themselves to shut out the daylight and shower us in darkness. I may have been twenty-one but I was as obsessed with Rapunzel as a thirteen-year-old with his collection of Lady Gaga posters. I didn’t have Lady Gaga posters nor was I thirteen anymore. I did have an adorable princess who loved me as much as she loved wearing, using, and stuffing her diapers as part of her Adult-Baby lifestyle. 

“How long was I asleep?” Rapunzel asked.

“You were asleep for twenty-seven hours,” I replied. 

“Really?” Rapunzel yawned. 

“I’m honest. You are a heavy sleeper. Heavier than your droopy diapers.”

“What do you want to do with me this morning? Feed me? Undress me? Play with me?” Rapunzel asked. 

“First, let’s get that diaper checked. I need to see if my baby princess needs to be changed before our fun begins.”

“Do I really need my diaper changed?” Rapunzel whined.

“I don’t need to hear you complain. I just need you to obey and comply.”

I checked Rapunzel’s diaper. There were traces of semen within the slime inside of her Pampers Cruisers. She had clearly been playing with herself last night by humping her pillow or giving herself a rubdown since she slightly enjoyed staying up past her bedtime. 

“Super soggy and cummy? Really?” I asked.

“Is that bad?” Rapunzel replied.

“No, but it’s awfully messy.”

Rapunzel yawned in reply. She usually slept during the afternoon or the evening. The times in which she went to bed depended on her mood. I laid her down on the mattress and changed her diaper in her crib rather than carrying her to the changing table to clean her up. A gentle kiss and a gentle pat on her butt resulted in a warm smile on her face. I always managed to make sure that my loving deeds brightened her day. She was my sunshine. I was her moon. Eugene and Lance entered the nursery. 

“Good morning, Robert and Rapunzel,” Eugene said.

“Hello, guys,” Rapunzel replied.

“May we please come in?” Lance asked.

“You may. Everybody is welcome in my home.”

Because Eugene and Lance were Dark Fairies, I expected for their massive wings to give them trouble when passing through the doorway, but that never happened. Their wings were not massive. They were the same size and wingspan as those of a raven. The two gentlemanly lovers gathered around Rapunzel’s crib with me so that they could adore their beloved Princess of Pampers. Rapunzel giggled and wiggled babyishly, sucking on her fingers as she batted her eyelashes in an attempt to act infantile. Her childlike charms proved to be effective. Eugene and Lance were enchanted by how cute she was. Lance tickled her toes and made silly faces to make her laugh. Eugene put on his best attempt at a sexy face even though he looked ridiculously laughable. 

“Do you wish to hold her?” I asked Eugene’s boyfriend. 

Rapunzel raised her arms up. Lance lifted the princess out of her crib and tenderly embraced her as if she was his own daughter. Word had spread throughout the kingdom of Corona that the African-American boyfriend of Eugene had recently adopted the daughters of Stalyan after she was killed by Maleficent after attempting to poison her mistress with a Red Delicious apple. Kiera and Catalina were more than happy to have Lance as their father. Their mother was a horrible person. 

“Have Kiera and Cataline met Rapunzel?” I wondered.

“They haven’t met Her Highness yet, but today they will,” Lance replied. “I invited them for a sleepover in the palace.”

“I thought minors weren’t allowed to visit the home of the Queen’s daughter because of the incident that happened between Rapunzel and those kink-shaming Puritans?” I remembered. “Weren’t children banned from the palace forever?”

“Forever doesn’t always last,” Eugene argued.

“That’s a good point.”

Rapunzel giggled as Lance gently threw her up and down while making sure to catch her every time she came down so that she wouldn’t get hurt. She was small but delicate. The sight of Rapunzel being held in Lance’s arms gave a random idea which was interesting but had nothing to do with the Queen’s daughter whatsoever since I didn’t think about her all of the time. 

“Instead of a sleepover, how about if we visit a certain tavern on the outskirts of the village? A tavern where ruffians and thugs hang out?” I asked. “It’s a great place for brunch and dinner.”

Lance’s boyfriend knew which tavern I was talking about.

“You want to go to the Snuggly Duckling?” Eugene correctly guessed.

“Do you object to my idea?” I replied.

“Not really,” Eugene answered. 

“How about if we don’t invite a pair of minors to an adults-only establishment? Does that sound reasonable?” I replied.

“The Snuggly Duckling is for adults only?” Lance replied.

“Yes, it is. It’s a brothel, a tavern, a burlesque theatre, and a strip club under one roof. The Snuggly Duckling isn’t exactly the most appropriate restaurant for children and their families to eat at. It’s not like they serve kid’s meals or chocolate milk unless you happen to be a disabled Adult-Baby princess of childlike stature who adores her diapers while she is loved and hated by her own subjects.”

“In that case, I won’t be inviting the kids over,” Lance decided. 

“By the way, could everybody please tell me their full names again? I have trouble remembering the names of certain people,” I requested.

“I am Eugene Zachary Fitzbert,” Lance’s boyfriend replied.

“I am Lance Monore Strongbow,” Eugene’s partner said. 

“I’m Rapunzel Gilda Moore,” Her Highness recited.

“Thanks, guys,” I chuckled.

“You’re welcome.”


	15. Brunch Quintet of the Snuggly Duckling

That afternoon, after Rapunzel had been fed and changed, I packed my diaper bag for our outing with Eugene and Lance. We exited the palace through the front doors and entered the village. Not unlike the roads in the wilderness, the streets were paved with squares of golden yellow bricks. My silver sneakers brilliantly glittered and sparkled as I skipped along the yellow brick road.

“The Snuggly Duckling is a great place for brunch,” Eugene told me.

“Have you been there before?” I replied.

“Yes, but that was ten years ago.”

“What did you eat?” Rapunzel asked.

“I ate cheesy noodles, Swedish meatballs, and a whole platter of celery drizzled with blue cheese sauce.”

Our group arrived at the Snuggly Duckling. We walked into the tavern where we discovered that Anna had reserved a table for us. We sat down with Rapunzel’s wife at her table. As usual, Rapunzel sat in her highchair, which was placed between me and her spouse. 

“I preordered your meals for all of you,” Anna told us. 

“That was nice of you,” I replied. 

“What did you get?” Eugene asked.

“I ordered each person’s favorite foods. I got chicken nuggets and bratwurst for Rapunzel, boneless fried chicken for Eugene, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for Lance, venison sausages for Robert, and chicken broth for me. Our beverages include lemonade mixed with iced tea, fruit punch, and cherry rum for our brunch together.”

“Bratwurst or knockwurst?” Rapunzel wondered.

“Bratwurst for the small baby,” Anna responded. 

“Our small and precious baby,” I remarked.

“Is it okay if I suck on my bratwurst like it’s Robert’s pickle?” Rapunzel asked. 

“His pickle?” Eugene and Lance gasped in unison.

“It’s not an actual pickle,” I argued.

“It’s not? Then what is it?” Eugene asked.

“I just happened to have named my lupine dick after my favorite snack since it’s the exact size and length of an actual Kosher Dill pickle. Rapunzel loves my pickle. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Does she suck on it?” Anna asked.

“No, since she’s not into that kinky shit, but she loves to play with it,” I replied. 

“Play with what?” Lance’s boyfriend asked.

“My wolf junk. She loves to tickle my pickle.”

“Sounds kinky,” Lance laughed.

“What sort of kinky shit do you love?” Eugene inquired. 

“Well, for starters, I’m certainly not her Daddy. Saying such a misused word aloud adds more injury to my discomfort. On the bright side, I love being the caregiver and babysitter of Rapunzel. I am also her lover. I sometimes swaddle the Princess of Pampers before humping her. I also stuff her diapers with slime because she loves slime as much as she loves her diapers and the fact that she lives in her nursery. She hates potties. Chamber pots and toilets are the bane of her existence.” 

“He described me in a nutshell,” Rapunzel giggled.

I patted the back of Rapunzel’s head. She made puppy noises and babbled like a baby. I kissed her forehead.

“Isn’t she a good baby puppy girl?” I asked the group.

“She’s the babiest puppy,” Eugene agreed.

“The best girl,” Lance replied.

The hook-handed-waiter approached our table. He carried a tray of our requested beverages and a pitcher of iced tea mixed with lemonade. The pitcher of lemon tea and a sippy cup were placed in the center of the table. Eugene and Lance received their glasses of cherry rum. Rapunzel was given a baby bottle filled with fruit punch. We thanked the waiter. The waiter told us that our food would be ready in seven hours. I replied that I was good at being patient even though it wasn’t one of my virtues. When the waiter left our table, our conversation resumed.

“What do you love most about Rapunzel?” I asked my companions.

“I love her smile, her childlike spirit, and her resilience,” Eugene replied. “She’s the bravest, smartest, and cutest princess in existence.”

“I admire her shameless attitude when it comes to wearing her diapers with pride. She looks good in Pampers,” Lance answered. 

“I love my wife because she lights up my life even though we don’t always see from each other’s perspectives and argue sometimes,” Anna chimed in. 

“What about you? What’s your favorite thing about me?” Rapunzel asked me. 

“I don’t really know, to be honest,” I replied. “You are a precious ray of sunshine. You are the lantern floating amidst a sea of darkness. I have seen the light. The fog has lifted. All at once, everything seems different, now that I’ve met you.”

“Really? That’s so romantic,” Rapunzel said. 

“You’re so romantic,” I cooed.

“No, you are!” Rapunzel replied in her baby voice.

“You’re my cutie little baby.”

“You’re my big boy.”

“Your biggest, baddest boy?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, you’re my small and precious Princess of Pampers. You deserved to be pampered and babied because you’re my little lamb. You’re the puppy to my wolf.”

“I’m a lamb and a puppy?” Rapunzel replied.

“You are a lamb, a puppy, and a flaxen-haired songbird.”

Our romantic moment was broken up by Lance’s boyfriend. He was weirded out by our baby talk and our nicknames. 

“Okay, people, let’s not get too lovey-dovey up in this joint. Some of us are trying to enjoy our afternoon?” Eugene interrupted. “Could we please not ruin the moment?”

“Says the dude who’s staring at Rapunzel like he wishes to marry her and be the groom to her bride,” I argued. 

“What if he does wish to marry me? I don’t mind having a husband,” Rapunzel told me. “He looks like a nice guy.”

“Nice is different from good.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” Lance said.

I stared at Eugene. He was a South Korean fairy with chestnut sideburns and a goatee. His thick eyebrows were as charming as his auburn eyes. He wore a leather vest and black leather pants. I was hairier than he was since I had a shaggy mullet, a mustache, a beard, and sideburns to match my humanoid lupine features. I could easily fight this dude in a heartbeat. I realized that fighting such a sexy man would be fruitless since his boyfriend would probably stop me from going into combat by restraining me with his fists or his good looks. Fighting either Fitzherbert or Strongbow was starting to sound like a stupid idea in the first place. 

“There is beauty within the beast. The beast must learn to love himself before learning to love another,” I whispered to myself. 

“I can hear you,” Rapunzel replied. 

“I know, baby girl. I know.”

Rapunzel drank her fruit punch from her baby bottle. She had chosen to wear just her pink-and-white bib and her diaper for today. I admired how beautiful she looked as she silently enjoyed her beverage while observing her companions at their table. In a kingdom where everybody knew everybody and rumors spread like wildfire as much as honest news did, Rapunzel didn’t care about what the haters had to say about her Adult-Baby lifestyle, since she stopped caring. She only wished to live her best life with her loved ones by her side. Seven hours later, our food arrived, and we feasted without silverware or napkins as if we were a party of peasants and warriors in the banquet hall of an old Danish forest. Rapunzel nibbled on her chicken nuggets which she dipped into her wife’s tomato soup. There were seven nuggets in all. After the chicken nuggets came the bratwurst. She picked up one of the nine pork sausages and placed it into her mouth, sucking on the meat in a dramatic but highly suggestive manner which caused the men at her table to burst out laughing without even attempting to hide their obvious arousal at this lewd occurrence. I was spellbound by the misbehavior of Her Highness as she ate the rest of her sausages by sucking on, licking, fondling, and eventually biting down on them before chewing, swallowing, and digesting as her way of entertaining our group. We weren’t the only ones who were staring at the little princess. Anna was also turned on. I gave half of my venison sausages to Rapunzel after she had finished her bratwurst. She sucked on her sausages as if they were the biggest, juiciest, and meatiest pickles that she had ever tasted in her personal history of culinary experiences. 

“Do you know what sounds totally kinky right now?” Rapunzel asked.

“What does?” I replied.

“How do you feel about the idea of kink-shaming those who kink-shame?”

“Actually, that sounds pretty clever,” I laughed. 

“Let he who is without the false sin of kink cast the first stone of shame,” Anna remarked. 

Anna and Rapunzel laughed with me. Our conversations revolving around kinks, fetishes, and kink-shaming were usually silly alongside being dramatic as well since talking about our societal problems served as a healthy outlet for our anger towards these issues. The Church of Corona used to teach abstinence from sexual activities as part of their educational program which demonized fetishes and kinks as being inherently Satanic or perverted without conducting proper research on the subjects which they were preaching to their Puritanical choir. The comeback of their divine King and Queen from the afterlife resulted in half of the uptight Christians changing their minds about whether alternative sexuality was a sinful practice to be shamed and shunned for. What once was considered taboo became largely but not entirely accepted by the modern society of the Grimm kingdom after stereotypes were shattered and the truth behind this misunderstood community was uncovered so that the vanilla folks were able to see the errors of their mistakes in order to prevent their own history from being repeated like it did for one-hundred-and-sixty-one years. 

“Is it just me or has the number of kink-shaming bigots in Corona decreased over time?” I asked.

“There have been fewer haters out there,” Rapunzel replied. “Most people adore me even though children still aren’t allowed to visit me. I partially miss being a babysitter.”

“Now you have a babysitter. You are my baby.”

Rapunzel stood up in her highchair and performed her Dirty Diaper Dance for the group to see. Her movements involved wiggling her hips from side to side, thrusting her crotch, and twerking. The fully loaded diaper swung back and forth like a padded pendulum between her legs due to how heavily saggy it was. I calmly explained to Eugene that her pampered choreography was a special dance that she performed whenever she had a full diaper which needed to be changed within five minutes. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” I asked Lance’s boyfriend.

“Uncomfortable? I’m not uncomfortable? Are you uncomfortable?” Eugene gasped. 

“No?” I replied.

“I’m just interested but mildly concerned about the super saggy diapers of the Queen’s daughter and the supernatural durability they possess. How long has she been doing her diapered dances exactly?”

“I’ve been doing my diapered dances since I emerged from the womb of my birth mother,” Rapunzel replied.

“Go on,” Eugene and Lance said. 

“When I was a literal baby, my abuser kept forcing me to use the potty even though I loved wearing and using my diapers, since they were comfortable and protected me against accidents. Dancing around in them was one of my childish pleasures. That horrid witch hated changing me whenever I was dangerously stinky. A princess like me needs to have proper protection. That’s why I hate the idea of using the potty. Diapers are conventionally beneficial for me.” 

“Have you ever been bullied for your diapers?” Eugene asked.

“Groups of conservative Christian parents on Facebook used to harass me and call me dirty names because they didn’t understand me or my lifestyle,” Rapunzel sighed. 

“That sucks.”

“The haters mistook me for a pedophilia. A sexually degenerate freak with an unholy interest in their children. I was nothing like that.”

“Well, in that case, I will spare all of you from hearing the pathetic sob story of the sad little orphaned boy known as the one and only Eugene Fitzherbert,” Lance’s boyfriend said.

“I want to hear your sob story! Please tell me?” Rapunzel pleaded.

“Sorry, Blondie, but you’re a better storyteller than I could ever be.”

Rapunzel blushed in reply to Eugene’s remark. She sat down in her highchair to relish in the squishy, messy feeling of her loaded diaper. 

“Sweetie? I think you need to have that dirty diaper changed now?” I told the princess. 

Sighing sadly, Rapunzel raised her arms up. I carried her out of her highchair and into the restroom of the tavern which was located on the far left side of the tavern from across the stage where male strippers were performing. The restroom matched the medieval Bavarian theme of the rest of the building. Rapunzel was delighted to find that frying pans adorned the walls. She loved her cast-iron skillets. I placed her on a changing table next to the second sink to the right. The dirty diaper of Her Highness was changed and disposed of in five minutes. We returned to Anna’s table. The spouse of Rapunzel had already tipped the waiter and received her check. Our meal was nothing short of cheap despite the grand atmosphere of the restaurant. We decided to stay at our table before deciding to leave the tavern.

“What are your plans for when autumn comes?” Eugene asked our group.

“Rapunzel and I will be attending the Oktoberfest party in this tavern. This year’s festival will be themed to fairy tales, folklore, and urban legends,” Anna replied. 

“I forgot that the concept of Oktoberfest existed in this universe,” I recalled. 

“The fall festivities of Corona are a weird crossover between Oktoberfest and Halloween which is essentially a four-month-long orgy which lasts from August to November. Expect to see dirndls, scary costumes, monster parties, and other spooky happenings in the village. I might sign up to perform at this year’s party as one of the strippers.” 

“May I please be a stripper with you?” Rapunzel asked her wife.

“What about me?” I joined in.

“You would make an excellent stripper,” Rapunzel remarked.

“Thanks, baby girl, but I would rather have you be a serving wench rather than an erotic dancer. I don’t you being watched by the wrong group of men in the audience and possibly stalked once you’re offstage. You could get hurt. I don’t want you to be endangered just because some asshole can’t keep his hands or his dick to himself. If any creepy perverts try to harm, then they will have no other choice but to answer to the Big Bad Werewolf himself. He will gouge out their eyeballs straight out out of their sockets, slash their throats, tear them apart, feast on their flesh, drink their blood, and throw their dismembered corpses into the nearest dumpster where they belong. Why do they belong in the dumpster? Because they’re inhuman trash who are better off living in a landfill.”

Realizing that I had no indoor voice when ranting about rapists and the fact that they were total garbage, I was astonished to discover that the patrons within the tavern applauded and cheered for me after my speech was finished. Their praise warmed my hairy heart. I honestly felt like a true hero. I remained hungry after eating my brunch. I was also thirsty for physical pleasure. Our group was transported to the interior of Rapunzel’s eighty-foot-tall tower within the heart of the western woods in the Dark Forest. We went into our desired rooms for the remainder of their afternoon. Eugene, Rapunzel, and I chose to spend the night in the nursery. Anna and Lance claimed the living room for themselves. 

“So this is your tower?” Eugene asked. 

“This is my tower,” Rapunzel confirmed. “It’s got four rooms, two fireplaces, and no bathrooms.” 

“What happens if I need to take a dump or a leak?” Eugene replied.

Rapunzel handed one of her diapers to her new companion. Eugene declined the offer but thanked her out of kindness.

“Do any of you think I’m good-looking?” Lance’s boyfriend asked.

“You are devilishly handsome,” Rapunzel remarked.

“You’re gorgeous,” I blurted you.

The boyfriend of Lance smiled at me. He winked at Rapunzel, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his head and stared into my eyes before switching his gaze to the padded crotch of the princess.

“What brand of diapers are those?” Eugene wondered.

“Those are twelve-inch-thick Pampers with maximum durability and absorbency. I am currently wearing Cruisers at the moment,” Rapunzel replied. 

“They’re her signature style of diapers,” I admitted.

“Do you mind if I pleasure myself?” Rapunzel asked.

“Nope, that’s fine. I don’t mind watching you get naughty.”

Without hesitation, Rapunzel reached between her legs, squatting down and rubbing the front of her diaper before tickling herself after reaching inside of her padding. She giggled and gasped babyishly during this dirty deed. Both Eugene and I developed immediate erections. We watched the precious pampered princess as she proudly played with her private parts through her protective padding as her own form of pleasurable playtime. Removing her hand from inside her diaper, she wiggled her hips and jiggled her crotch around, determined to make sure that she was seducing Eugene without making him uncomfortable. The boyfriend of Lance was everything but discomforted. Rapunzel ran into Eugene’s arms where she was picked up and lovingly held. I rushed over to the main window of the tower to catch a glimpse of the outdoors. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was already night. I pondered how that was possible when I remembered that the timezone worked differently in the Tri-Kingdom Area than it did in the Land Without Magic. Days were shorter and nights were longer. Matters of time and days were even weirder in Wonderland. In the underground kingdom of Carrollian fantasy, afternoon was evening, evening was afternoon, and afternoon bled into daytime whenever it felt like doing so since the sun and the moon were visible in the heavens above. Fantasy was indeed greater than reality. I felt more at home in Corona than I ever did in the real world. 


	16. Little People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The concept of dwarfs (little people) in this universe is basically a mashup of sorts where the medical condition and the fantasy race have been fused into a single entity. Rapunzel is four-foot-five with nine-foot-long hair. I noticed that her height has been referenced many times in her stories but in a non-offensive and socially sensitive context. Though the heights of real-life dwarfs vary, they are typically under five/four feet, or smaller.**

Contrary to literary belief, the concept of romantic love at first sight isn’t always a bedtime story aimed at small children or an Elizabathen tragedy where star-crossed lovers and problematic couples are condemned to be the victims of a cursed love story without a happy ending. I recall falling in love with Rapunzel over ten years ago. I was a thirteen-year-old nerd who used fantasy as his escape from reality. She was an eighteen-year-old baby at heart who loved her nursery and her diapers. In case it wasn’t obvious for anybody who was concerned, we didn’t start dating or mating until I matured. I was eighteen. She was twenty-five. I wasn’t lying to myself when I said that she was my greatest fantasy come true. I was in love with a living, breathing maiden from a fairy tale in the form of an adorably spunky Adult-Baby princess. She was a fair-skinned dwarf with eyes of emerald green and braided rope of golden blonde hair which was typically adorned with flowers whenever she was in the proper mood to adorn her flaxen locks. She didn’t seduce me when we first decided to be lovers. I was the one who stole her heart. Rapunzel didn’t mind being referred to as a dwarf. She knew that she couldn’t help being born small. Small being four-foot-five. 

“Which terminology do you personally prefer? Dwarfs or little people?” Her Highness asked me during our breakfast in the nursery. 

“Dwarf sounds more fantastical,” I replied.

“Little person is more politically correct,” Eugene replied.

“Midget is downright offensive and dated.”

“Midget? What’s a midget?” Eugene asked.

“A midget is an old-fashioned term for dwarfs. The name originally came from a midge. A midge is a diseased fly.”

“Well, that’s disconcerting,” Eugene replied.

“My caregiver speaks the truth,” Rapunzel agreed. “I would hate being called a midget. It’s dehumanizing and heartbreaking for a person to use such a disgusting word for people like me. It’s the same as an autistic person being referred to as being retarded or defected. I’m not broken. I’m just unique. I’m not a monster, a freak, or some ungodly abomination. That’s what Robert told me.” 

“She’s such a smart cookie,” I said to myself. 

Rapunzel wasn’t simply unique. She was a total cutie pie. I wasn’t merely attracted to her because she was baby-faced nor was her childlike stature the reason I was aroused sometimes. I was turned on by the Queen’s daughter because of her playful sexuality. Whenever her diapers became jam-packed and extra bulgy due to heavily sagging loads, my erection formed, and my libido strengthened whenever her diapered dances were performed for my viewing pleasure to amuse me as well as add to my bestial excitement. I was her sexy beast. She was my baby girl. We were a pair of disabled lovers who came from different mothers from different worlds. The undying power of the truest of true love was indeed the strongest form of magic in all of the fabled realms. Not all love was sexual or romantic. Best friends loved each other as much as amorous lovers did. Rapunzel’s wife loved her older sister. Queen Arianna loved Rapunzel. The cycle of love was an endless circle of appreciation, affection, and attention, and admiration, and I was caught in the middle of the circle. My love for Rapunzel was sexually romantic. The Princess of Pampers sat in her highchair. She was messily eating from a bowl of mashed peaches, prunes, and pears. Her morning beverage was fruit punch in her baby bottle. Both her food and her drink were laced with laxatives in case she happened to be seriously constipated. I expected her diaper to be fully loaded this morning. 

“Robert?” Rapunzel asked.

“Little baby girl, little baby girl, will your diaper soon be full?” I replied.

“It’s getting there. Bear with me, dude. My bowels need to empty themselves before my diaper is nice and ripe.”

“Okay, sweetie. Whatever you say,” I chuckled.

In five minutes, Rapunzel was already standing up in her highchair, closing her eyes and forming her hands into fists while squatting down. She breathed heavily like a thirsty puppy. Her diaper thickened. The front and back of her padding expanded. The messy load within her diaper bulged out between her legs and thighs followed by a trickle of urine which turned into a roaring river that was contained within her absorbent undergarment. She did not perform her diapered dance since she wasn’t in the mood for performing the usual wiggling of her posterior or her crotch. Instead, she sniffled and began to cry, her infantile screams alerting me. She needed to have her diaper changed immediately. However, this time, I wasn’t going to be the one in charge of changing her. I handed Rapunzel over to Eugene. 

“Why are you giving her to me?” Eugene asked.

“Because, in another universe, you’re her husband,” I replied.

“Her husband? I don’t even know her that well,” Eugene argued. “She’s already married.”

“Don’t complain, dude. Just change her stinking diaper already.”

Eugene carried Rapunzel over to the changing table. He closed his eyes and changed her diaper without blinking so that he wouldn’t lose his brunch after witnessing what could not be unseen within the durable confines of her padding. Rapunzel giggled, wiggled, and kicked her legs while she was being changed by her companion. He handed the Princess of Pampers back to me after the unpleasant duty was finished. I sniffed her freshly diapered butt. Her butt smelled of fresh linen and lavender. 

“You smell better,” I whispered to Rapunzel.

Rapunzel giggled and smiled at me, sucking on her fingers as she usually did as one of her childlike mannerisms of self-stimulation. Anna and Lance awakened from their slumber three hours later. They were just in time to witness Rapunzel letting her hair down. She was humping me on the floor in the nursery while Eugene watched us as he sat in the rocking chair beside the cradle. She was rubbing her diapered crotch all over my pickle. The princess giggled as I rubbed her tummy. She whined, panted, and growled like a lovesick puppy as she did the deed. My beautiful puppy. 

“Were you two staying up last night by having sex while we were asleep?” Lance asked.

“Actually, we’re having sex this morning,” Rapunzel replied.

“Who’s a good girl?” I asked Rapunzel.

The Princess of Pampers huffed and puffed as I continued to give her belly rubs. 

“I’m a good girl. I’m the best girl. I’m your favorite princess in all of the fabled realms.”

I had dressed Rapunzel in her pink-and-purple corset and pink-and-purple striped stockings this morning. Her puppy collar was worn around her neck along with her pink-and-white bib. She adored being my little pet. The Princess of Pampers was given plentiful amounts of love, care, respect, and attention that she craved but her deceased abuser lacked. Eugene was also non-uncomfortable by the idea of Rapunzel being my submissive and compliant baby puppy girl as long as neither of us put her in a position which made her feel uncomfortable or frightened since we truly loved her as much as she loved us. Our love was a charmed circle of big boys and baby girls. When it came to partners, Rapunzel loved her each and every one of her devoted lovers equally, even though I considered Her Highness to be my personal favorite in terms of fabled ladies whom I admired. Rapunzel was renowned for her iconic hair even though she was so much more than her lengthy golden braids. Her hair was part of her character but not her entire personality. She was a resilient fighter. She was a doe-eyed child. She was an abuse survivor. She was an autistic sweetheart. She was a kinky playmate. She was a diapered heroine of the disabled community who dared to be different. The Queen’s daughter had proved herself to be tougher than the common crowd who once fought with their words and their rage to bring her down. Her Highness didn’t care about what the haters thought about her because she had people in her life who loved her for who she was. Plus, since the Grimm world in which she lived in was an enchantingly anachronistic universe, disposable but recyclable diapers were more ubiquitous throughout the marketplace than cloth diapers, even though cloth diapers were also reusable, cheaper, and more healthy for the environment than their disposable rivals known as Pampers, Huggies, and Luvs, which were basically the Holy Trinity of diaper brands. The Pampers of Rapunzel were undeniably soft, cushy, squeezable, cushy, and squishy padded pillows which hugged her luxurious crotch and bottom, especially when they were super soggy or stuffed with slime during her usual playtime. Being given the chance to squeeze and squish her durable diapers was my favorite way of spending playtime with the Princess of Pampers in her royal nursery or her eighty-foot-tall tower. Kinky playtime was our idea of a good time together as a couple of partners. Our morning intercourse was followed by sitting with Eugene, Lance, and Anna at the kitchen table as a group to discuss our plans for this week, the upcoming months, and our paths in life. I was the first person to engage in the conversation. Rapunzel was seated next to me in her highchair.

“I was thinking that maybe Anna, Rapunzel, and I could go off the grid? Maybe live in a cottage instead of a palace?” I suggested.

“Why don’t the three of you just live in the tower?” Eugene replied. “This tower has four rooms, two fireplaces, and no bathrooms, so it sounds pleasantly unconventional, especially for an Adult-Baby princess whom you seem to enjoy loving and caring for.”

“Speaking of a tower without bathrooms, I have a huge announcement,” Anna said. 

“What’s your announcement?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I will be switching from my signature Huggies to cloth diapers in honor of my identity as an autistic environmentalist. The Queen of Huggies is dead. Long live the Queen of Cloth Diapers.”

“Sounds like someone’s deciding to be a big girl by changing her own diapers,” Rapunzel giggled.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t end up being a baby about the change,” Eugene laughed. 

Rapunzel and Eugene chuckled together at their own diaper-themed jokes. Anna and Lance were amused beyond description. I was indifferent about their humor since I felt that their puns were cute but cheesy. The Princess of Pampers was screaming and giggling hysterically as she was being tickled by Eugene. As usual, whenever she was being played with by her playmates, her legs were spread open, thus giving her kinky partner a decent view of her thickly diapered crotch which naturally bulged out between her legs because of the cushiness of her twelve-inch-thick padding.

“Eugene! You’re going to make me wet!” Rapunzel cried out.

“That was my intention,” Eugene revealed.

“Um, guys? Where’s Pascal?” I asked.

Rapunzel reached inside her diaper and took out her reptilian friend. The chameleon was slightly covered in semen as a result of his mistress wetting herself out of excitement from being aggressively tickled. Pascal was placed on the left shoulder of the princess. 

“Do you remember when we first met each other three years ago?” Rapunzel asked Eugene. 

“I remember you were somewhat upset when I told you that you were smaller than I expected you to be,” Eugene recalled. “You are indeed the cutest babe with the strangest fashion sense and lifestyle that I’ve ever seen.”

“Is Gothel really dead? Dead and gone? For real?” Lance asked.

“The witch is dead. She isn’t coming back,” I assured Eugene’s boyfriend. 

“Yay!” Rapunzel, Eugene, and Lance cheered.

“However, two members of her coven have been resurrected by Zhan Tiri, whom I killed along with one of the Nightshade Sisters. I defeated the gluttonous hag in her bloody gingerbread house within the wilderness of the Netherworld. I have no idea where Lady Caine and Drizella are, but I know that they’re out there, lurking in the shadows until they can exact their revenge on my baby girl.”

“What do they want with me?” Rapunzel demanded.

“What they desire is what you already have. They want your body. They wish to utilize you as their latest plaything.”

“What the fuck? I’ve done nothing wrong! Why can’t those mean old witches leave me alone? I’m just a small and precious baby!” Rapunzel objected. 

“In their eyes, you are not a small and precious baby, but a threat to their existence. Drizella and Lady Caine hate you because you murdered their leader and her sidekick, which means their coven exists without a mother to act as their guardian. The demise of Gothel means that they are now thirsty for teaching you a lesson even though they’re the ones who deserve to be punished for their misdeeds of wickedness and falsehood.”

My words greatly frightened Rapunzel so much that she whimpered, sniffled, and cried in an infantile fashion. I released her from her highchair by picking her up and holding her in my arms. She wiped the tears from her eyes. I kissed her cheeks and her forehead while bouncing her on my knee to calm her down. I patted the front of her padding. 

“It’s okay, little baby girl,” I whispered to Her Highness.

“No, it’s not okay! Those disgusting bitches are going to come back for me and take me away from you,” Rapunzel argued. 

“Those mean old witches aren’t going to hurt my baby girl as long as I’m around to protect you.”

“You don’t understand, do you? I don’t want to lose you. You are my new dream.”

“And you are mine.”

I embraced Rapunzel as we kissed each other’s lips. Our kiss was warm, real, and brighter than the lanterns which floated in the sky every night on her birthday.


	17. Caregiver

After our morning discussion, Eugene and Lance kissed our group goodbye before they exited the tower by flying out the window, leaving me in the company of Rapunzel and Anna. Elsa’s sister began to undress the Queen’s daughter out of boredom. The spouse of Rapunzel removed her wife’s corset and stockings. I smiled at the diaper-clad body of Rapunzel before she was dressed in her pink-and-purple dirndl. The dirndl which I speak of was her favorite outfit. Her nine-foot-long hair was braided into her traditional French braid. The golden locks of the Princess of Pampers were adorned with pink and purple roses which had been gathered from the heart of the enchanted garden in which the tower stood. I resumed sitting at the kitchen table with Rapunzel securely cradled in my arms. 

“Please don’t let those mean old witches get to me. I don’t want to end up as their baby doll,” Rapunzel whimpered. 

“Nobody’s going to lay a finger on you if I’m there to bite it off,” I whispered to the princess.

“Are you sure? Do you truly promise to protect me from the darkest demons and the wickedest witches?” Rapunzel replied.

“Don’t worry, my darling child, I promise to protect you. I will always be there for you. I am your caregiver. Your babysitter. Your bodyguard. You are my little baby girl. Demons and witches don’t stand a chance against the power of the Big Bad Werewolf. He will huff, he will puff, and he will kick their asses into another dimension if it means keeping his little Princess of Pampers safe from their perverted clutches. No harm shall come to you as long as I’m alive.”

"Thanks, but I have a serious question."

"What's your question?" I replied.

“What happens if those monsters have the ability to sense my bodily functions? What if I get super soggy when I’m scared and they mock me for soaking myself?” Rapunzel asked.

“Nobody deserves to be mocked for something that they can’t control. Small- minded bigots are intolerable monsters who simply believe themselves to be human even though they aren’t. They are disgustingly inhuman.”

“Have you ever been the victim of bigotry?” Anna’s wife said to me.

“Actually, I have, but I’m not going into detail. I prefer to live in the present rather than reminisce about the past or worry about my future. Being in the moment is what I live for.” 

Having removed my butt from my chair, I carried Rapunzel from the kitchen to the nursery, where I sat down beside her cradle. Anna went into the kitchen to get herself a glass of cranberry cider. I decided to talk more with Rapunzel about random topics which brewed inside of my head before exiting my mouth in the form of words.

“Why do you love wearing dirndls so much?” I asked.

“I love wearing dirndls because I think they’re cute,” Rapunzel replied.

“Why do you think they’re cute?” I answered.

“Dirndls are cute because they come in many different styles, colors, and lengths. Whether modest or skimpy, off-the-shoulder or tea-length, I truly believe that dirndls are one of the greatest gifts from the world of traditional European fashion to modern society. Diapers and dirndls are an unusual but fashionable combo if you know how to properly wear them. I love wearing diapers underneath the skirt of my dirndl because they make me feel free to be flatteringly feminine in my own special but non-traditional sort of way. I haven't known any sexually curious people in my kingdom whose appetites and hungry eyes couldn't resist the sight of a diapered princess in a skimpy dirndl."

“A sexually curious person who can’t resist the sight of a diapered princess in a skimpy dirndl? Did you just describe a certain someone?” I gasped. 

“Who are you talking about?” Rapunzel asked.

“You’ve basically described me.”

“Well, you are quite fond of seeing me being all flashy and sassy in my Pampers,” Rapunzel giggled.

“What kind of Pampers are you wearing right now?” I asked.

“I am wearing Swaddlers right now. They are soft and snug. Besides my diapers and my dirndls, I’m also a huge fan of food. I've got the stomach of a warrior. I can eat and drink as much as I want as long as my diaper is fuller than my tummy. Did you know that my jam-packed Pampers weigh about half a pound or five pounds once they’re stuffed? Basically, the weight of the load depends on how full it gets, since I’ve got a big appetite for food and kinky fun. I especially adore how my diapers become bloated after heavily drooping and sagging down to my toes. Droopy diapers are the best. They’re just right.”

“Droopy diapers? Do you like them stinky or soggy?” I replied.

“I love being super soggy, since the sensation of a stinky and messy diaper isn’t always fun for me. I always need to be changed within five minutes if my Pampers are full of shit.”

“Do you want to know what’s not shitty?” I asked.

“What?” Rapunzel wondered.

“The love we share.”

I stared at Rapunzel in her signature getup. Her emerald eyes stared into my soul. She pulled her lips back into a warm smile which was full of clean teeth which were white as pearls. The pink-and-purple dirndl of the pampered princess was a three-piece dress consisting of a blouse with slashed puff sleeves, a bodice, and a skirt. Her dirndl didn’t include an apron unlike more modest versions of this traditional Western European dress. The skirt was short enough to expose her bulky padding which curved around her thighs, her crotch, and her butt, accentuating her wide hips. She did not wear shoes or stockings. The barefoot princess always made sure that her clothing matched up with her lifestyle and her personality. Her dirndls and her diapers were a fashionable combo indeed. A childlike woman such as herself deserved to have a wardrobe in her royal nursery which was reminiscent of the second childhood that was her life. Rapunzel was the lucky one. I did not have a second chance at childhood. I was an autistic Goth teenager within the body of a sexually frustrated werewolf of color who was forced to grow up in a world where magic was considered to be a fairy tale and darkness was everywhere. I was a lost boy with identity issues, a hero complex, and my own worst enemy in the form of an evil clone who represented the darker, uglier side of my personality. I prayed that my clone wouldn’t be making a comeback soon. He should have remained dead and buried wherever he was. Then again, the dead didn’t always stay dead. The worst monsters never went down without a fight to win and a bone to pick with their rivals. Monsters were known for targeting the loved ones of their enemies. I would be ready when those wicked witches came to take Rapunzel away from me. I would be ready when my clone arose from the grave to battle me. I was born ready. Ready as I’ll ever be. 


	18. Rude Awakening

“I love you, my little baby girl,” I whispered to Rapunzel.

“I love you more,” Rapunzel replied.

“I love you most.”

We shared another kiss together. The morning outside of the tower in the western woods became afternoon. The afternoon bled into the evening. My spiritual body exited his physical host and entered into his subconscious when I fell asleep that night. I wasn’t in my body anymore. I was Eugene. Let me explain what I meant by this. I was stuck inside Eugene’s body like a human performer in a wolf costume. I was seeing my surroundings through his eyes. The landscape was the midst of a barren wasteland in which Rapunzel’s tower stood on the outskirts of a disenchanting forest. Encircling the base of the tower was a thicket of thorns on which an abundance of pink and purple roses bloomed. I approached the tower, looked up at the window, and called out the famous phrase that would grant me entrance into the eighty-foot-tall domain of the fabled princess.

“Rapunzel? Rapunzel, let down your golden hair to me.”

The seventy-five-foot-long braided rope was lowered down to me. I grabbed onto the French braid and climbed up towards the main window of the tower which I entered through. The circular room was a Victorian nursery in a cottage with a pink-and-purple color scheme. Rapunzel sat on her knees in the middle of the floor in front of the fireplace. She wore a cropped pink-and-purple blouse with slashed sleeves. Her supernaturally durable diaper was fully loaded with soggy feces. The two-for-one combo contained within her padding had the aroma of a roasted corpse drowning in polluted water. The six-armed witch combing and brushing her golden locks while singing an Italian lullaby to the Princess of Pampers was none other than Gothel herself. She turned around and smiled at me. I tiptoed toward the princess. She was sucking on her thumb. I smiled at Her Highness. She looked directly at me. 

“Are you here to rescue me?” Rapunzel asked. 

Before I could answer, Gothel grabbed me by the arm and cackled sadistically in my face. One of her arms felt its way into the front of Rapunzel’s diaper. I was disgusted by how she fondled the princess. Non-consensual touching was one of my major pet peeves which I shared with the princess herself. 

“Leave her alone!” I shouted at Gothel. 

I was witch-slapped without even having been touched. It still was painful for me to receive. I ran over to Rapunzel and hugged her. During our embrace, I felt a searing pain in my heart, as if my body was on fire with the flames of wicked witchcraft. Invisible hands clutched my throat. I gasped and choked. 

“Eugene? What’s wrong? What’s happening to you?” Rapunzel wondered.

“I am,” Gothel replied.

My body flew across the room and tumbled from the window. The last thing I heard before I fell into the thorns were Rapunzel’s screams. The thorns pierced my eyes and blinded me. I would never see the Queen’s daughter again. Rapunzel’s screams caused me to scream along with her. I woke myself out of my disturbingly realistic experience within the darkness of my mind. I sat upright and stared down at the princess who was sitting between my legs. She wore the same outfit from my nightmare. Her diaper was dry instead of soggy or messy. I forgot to feed her before going to bed.

“Are you okay?” Rapunzel asked.

“Rapunzel? Is it really you?” I replied.

“Who else would I be?” Rapunzel laughed.

I hugged the Princess of Pampers as tightly as I could but avoided accidentally suffocating her. 

“It’s okay, little baby girl. It’s okay.”

“Why are you whispering?” Rapunzel wondered.

“Because I love you. You’re my good girl.”

Just to be safe, I patted Rapunzel’s bottom to check if she was truly clean and dry. Her diaper was fresh for the time being. I decided to stare at her cleavage instead of her crotch. She was bustier than I imagined but at a realistic level. Her breasts weren’t too big or too small. Her hips weren’t too wide or too skinny. She was just right.

“Why are you staring at my boobs and my hips? Am I not pretty enough for you?” Rapunzel demanded. 

“No, sweetie, you’re fine. You’ve got a beautiful body.”

“Then why do you look like you want to devour me?” Rapunzel replied.

“I’m hungry but horny?” I answered. 

“What time is it?” Rapunzel asked.

“It’s still midnight. Go back to sleep, little baby girl.”

“I can’t go back to sleep,” Rapunzel argued. 

“Why not?” I asked.

“My nightmares keep me awake. I had this dream where my abuser locked me up in my tower and kicked you out so you couldn’t rescue me from her lustful advances. The witch was this six-armed demon who kept on fondling me from inside my diaper. I was so frightened that I couldn’t stop her. You were unable to save me from her dirty deeds.”

What Rapunzel described was the same experience that I went through. We were both nocturnal creatures who shared the same nightmare. I fucking hated Gothel with a burning passion because she was monstrous. There was nothing maternal about her. She was a predatory, selfish, vain, possessive, and emotionally abusive kidnapper who only wanted Rapunzel for herself to keep as her living baby doll to use and manipulate under her control. Rapunzel was glad that Gothel didn’t come back from the dead for real. That would have been a waking nightmare for both of us. I spent the rest of my evening cuddling, snuggling, and making all manner of physical love to Rapunzel, reaching between her legs and playing with her diaper like I usually did when she wished to be played with. I was worried that her newly resurrected enemies would find some way of destroying me after they had torn Rapunzel from my arms and her family. The other part of me told myself that I was her protective caregiver. As long as Rapunzel was around her loved ones, nobody could harm her. Not even the wickedest witches in Corona. There was no way that Rapunzel was going to be the plaything of her enemies. Not on my watch. 

“Not tonight, Zhan Tiri. Not tonight.”

I held Rapunzel up in front of the mirror to look at ourselves. She smiled at our clones. The dark chocolate eyes of my other self stared into mine. I spoke a grave warning to him. The warning wasn’t meant for my reflection. It was meant for my foolhardy enemies.

“The child of Queen Arianna shall come to no harm. She is small and precious. She is our little girl. I am her biggest, baddest boy. Mess with the Big Bad Wolf? You get attacked. Mess with my little lamb? Your pathetic ass gets slaughtered like the carcass of Bambi’s mother hanging from a meat hook in the room of a slaughterhouse on Old McDonald’s farm in the countryside.”

If Rapunzel ever got hurt, then the Goth biker prince would be forced to shed his sheep’s wool and allow the fur to grow from his pores as he transformed from a kindly gentleman into a ferocious protector. The beast would be unleashed from within the man. No prisoners would be taken. No enemies would be spared. The wicked would not go unpunished. No tears were to be shed for these demons. Not Nazis in the form of literal swine. Not wicked witches posing as maternal guardians. Not murderous queens in disguise as peddlers of sinfully delicious apples. Not even abusive stepmothers. All of them deserved to die. Nobody mourned the wicked.


	19. Goth Fairy Kid of the Mother Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Let it be known that Momo isn't as scary as she looks. She is a creature from Japanese folklore know as an Ubume which is a half-bird woman who is associated with motherhood, children, childbirth, and the abduction of children. Her portrayal largely depends on which version of her mythology is being told. The creator of Momo (Keisuke Aiso) dismantled his sculpture of her (called "Mother Bird") mainly because of the controversy surrounding the infamously viral["Momo Challenge"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momo_Challenge_hoax) hoax which originated from the inappropriate misrepresentation and misuse of her image (which is its own disgusting form of cultural appropriation) but also because the art was slowly dying of natural causes. Also, on the cuter side of things, aside from the fact that Momo has her own fandom with plenty of fanart, the name "Momo" means "peach/peaches" in Japanese, like Momotarō ("Peach Boy"), so Momo isn't all that terrifying. She's a good bird who never asked for her face to be made into a scary meme or a hoax. I have decided to portray her as if she is a Studio Ghibli character.**

“Can’t you walk faster?” Cassandra snapped at Adira, attempting to keep up with her Asian bodyguard’s pace.

Adira turned around and smiled at Maleficent’s granddaughter. Her dark-haired companion was lagging along the northeastern streets of the eastern Asian city like a snail from behind her. Both women were dressed in kimonos with color schemes inspired by their original attire and black tights with black boots. The Asian warrior had told her friend that they were taking a shortcut through the northeastern region of Tokyo in order to find a portal which would lead them into the hidden fairyland of Ghibli. They entered into an alley littered with trash bags and food wrappings. The air smelled foul. Cassandra pinched her nose to avoid breathing into the harmful aroma. Adira was immune to the smell around her. 

“Where is this portal that we’re supposed to find?” Cassandra asked.

“It’s around here somewhere,” Adira replied.

Cassandra reached between one of the trash bags and pulled out a gilded mirror. The mirror glowed with an unearthly light from its reflective surface. She dropped the mirror. The obsidian bauble of vanity began to grow until it was the size of a trash can. The winged witch stared downward at her reflection. Her reflection faded into a swirling portal where lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. For a moment, Cassandra caught a glimpse of Momo’s face. The Ubume reached out and grabbed Cassandra by the waist, pulling her through the mirror and into the portal. Adira tumbled into the mirror after her companion. The two women closed their eyes while they held onto each other’s hands as they slowly descended down into the eye of the storm. Their descent ended when their faces hit the floor. Opening their eyes, Cassandra and Adira got up from the floor, unable to believe what they were seeing. The two companions were standing at the end of an overgrown corridor in what appeared to be an abandoned but formerly glamorous cottage. Circular portraits of ducklings and chicks adorned the walls. The walls were stained with ancient traces of bloodshed from the creature who once knew this cottage as her home. Adira tapped Cassandra on the shoulder. Cassandra turned around and nearly screamed. Perched on top of a table was the half-bird lady whom she had always been obsessed with. Posed in the exact same fashion as the recently destroyed sculpture which had been created in her likeness but became the subject of viral controversy due to her image being used for inappropriate purposes, she was creepier in the flesh but not ugly or ghastly. The bug-eyed Ubume titled her head as she smiled in a friendly but uncomfortable manner at the latest visitors of her home. Unlike normal members of her species, who either snatched children from their parents or were the spirits of mothers who died in childbirth, the-six-foot-eight creature known as Momo was a different kind of avian woman. Nicknamed Chicken Mom, Mother Bird, and Momo-chan by her human community of fans, she was simply a widowed mother without children or a male partner. Being more sympathetic than scary, she had avenged the tragic deaths of her children after the henchmen of her ex-husband murdered them. The Ubume was fair-skinned with dark waist-length strings of messy hair. She had the talons, wings, and beaked mouth of a chicken. Clothed in a white kimono which was stained with blood from the waist down but partially exposed her large breasts, she wore a crown of dead roses and chicken’s feathers in her hair, keeping with the avian features of her appearance. Her large forehead mixed with her bangs and her thick butt gave her an odd sort of beauty. The Ubume lacked eyebrows. She weirdly resembled the Frog Girl known as Tsuyu Asui who in turn could have easily passed herself off as Momo's twin sister. 

“Momo?” Cassandra asked.

“Hello, my dear child,” the Ubume chirped in reply. 

Despite not having teeth, Momo communicated perfectly with the granddaughter of Maleficent, even though she didn’t know what a fairy was. Yubaba appeared beside her avian wife. She caressed the hair of her partner while glancing unpleasantly at the travelers.

“What brings you to the Hidden Kingdom?” Yubaba demanded.

“The dark-haired witch wishes for me to adopt her so that she may be my daughter,” Momo whispered to Yubaba.

“Your daughter? She isn’t a child,” Yubaba argued.

“She is a grown-up child. Age shouldn’t matter in terms of parenting your young. Allow me to handle this.”

Coughing feathers out of her throat, Momo turned her attention to Cassandra, flew down from her perch, and approached the witch. She patted Maleficent’s granddaughter on the head, telling her that she was to be officially but not formally adopted as a member of her family, and that her nest was furnished with everything that she could ever ask for. Momo informed Cassandra that her nest was not a literal one. 

“What is this place?” Cassandra wondered.

“This cottage was once Momo’s home,” Adira replied. “Now it’s a shrine to her lost motherhood and the memory of her children which has decayed along with her past life. Happiness doesn’t always last forever.” 

Lowering her head, Momo pouted and backed away from Cassandra, spreading her wings. Her feathers ruffled themselves. The Ubume clucked to herself as she hugged Cassandra. The granddaughter of Maleficent was her child now and forever. Taking Cassandra’s hand, the Ubume followed Yubaba and Adira outside into a swamp in the midst of the wilderness. Cherry blossoms, apricots, and orchids lined both sides of the dirt road on which the four women walked. 

“Where are we going?” Cassandra asked.

“To my wife’s bathhouse. It’s her home and mine,” Momo replied.

“Who works there?” Cassandra wondered.

“Humans and spirits are my workers,” Yubaba revealed. “They are the heart of my establishment. Without them, the _Yokai_ would be displeased and underfed, and my darling baby boy wouldn’t get the attention he craves from his companions.”

“How big is your baby?” Cassandra inquired.

“He’s bigger than the average newborn.” 

The group eventually arrived at their destination by crossing a bridge over a river which was guarded by a teenage dragon named Haku. They stood at the front doors and looked upward. The fifty-three-foot-tall Natsuki Bathhouse was an artistic creation of Japanese architecture which reminded Cassandra of her grandmother’s castle. The color scheme of the bathhouse was red, gold, and green. Cassandra felt like a child staring at the grandest dragon in existence. Yubaba grabbed her hand and led her inside with the rest of their group. The main hall of the building was the reception area. Totoro stood behind his desk, checking in newly arrived guests and waving at his manager. Yubaba smiled at the tall, chubby creature who resembled a giant grey rabbit mixed with a bear. Momo coughed up blood into a white handkerchief which she passed to Yubaba. Yubaba passed the bloodstained cloth to Adira. Adira handed the handkerchief to Totoro who placed it on top of a heap of dirty laundry inside of a basket which was being carried by one of the workers whom Momo recognized as Mr. Widemouth. Chicken Mom screamed in Mr. Widemouth’s face. The smile faded from her enemy’s face. His deadly games were the inspiration behind the viral hoax which was orchestrated by the impostor posing as his nemesis. 

“ _Fakkuofu!_ ” Momo screeched at her nemesis.

All of the Yokai applauded as Mr. Widemouth vanished in front of Momo’s unblinking eyes. While Cassandra followed her adoptive mother upstairs to the twelfth floor of the bathhouse, she bumped into No-Face who was happily chowing down on a bowl of cheesy noodles and rice patties which he ate with chopsticks. The group entered the third room on the twelfth floor. The room was the main office of Yubaba where she employed, lectured, and berated her workers. Cassandra removed her kimono to reveal a Goth schoolgirl uniform underneath before sitting down between Momo and Adira on the sofa beside Yubaba’s desk. 

"Are you Chinese or Japanese?" Cassandra asked her bodyguard.

"I am Korean, Chinese, and English," Adira replied.

“Is Cassandra interested in working to earn her bread and wine as part of her new life in this kingdom?” Yubaba asked Momo.

“Let the child speak for herself,” Momo insisted. 

“I will gladly be your maidservant if I am treated with love, respect, and care,” Cassandra replied.

“Good answer. For your first chore, I want you to play with my baby.” 

“Where is he?” Cassandra asked.

Yubaba took Cassandra’s hand and led her through a curtained doorway into a king-sized nursery where the witch’s son greeted her. His name was Boh. The baby boy was thirteen years old on the inside but three months old in appearance. He was a bald seven-foot-tall child with a pudgy but muscular body and a cute giggle which warmed Cassandra’s heart. Picking up Cassandra from the floor, he smiled at her.

“You remind me of another dark-haired girl who came here before you,” Boh remembered. “Her name was Chihiro. She was nice to me. I hope you’re just as nice as she was.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be a good big sister,” Cassandra promised.

“Do you swear on your mother’s life?” Boh demanded.

“I swear on my life and mine alone.”

Cassandra was placed down on the floor. She bowed down to the baby and smiled at him. He giggled, clapping his hands. Boh wore only a red-and-white bib with his name printed in Japanese letters on the front. At least he didn’t wear diapers. He was potty-trained unlike a certain pampered princess which was good news for Cassandra. She had found a new mother. A new home. A new life in a hidden kingdom where European tourists were banned and magic was everywhere. A hidden kingdom where fairies, witches, and avian mothers existed together. The hidden kingdom of Ghibli. 


	20. The Wrath of Chicken Mom Comes Alive At Midnight

Evening arrived in the Japanese fairyland of Ghibli. The maternal embrace of midnight had devoured the afternoon by shrouding the eastern Asian realm in darkness. The darkening of the land marked the moment for nocturnal creatures to crawl forth from the shadows. One of these creatures was a half-bird woman known as an Ubume who happened to be an adoptive mother. She was known by many nicknames. Bird Mom. Chicken Mom. Momo-chan. Mother Bird. Her real name was Momo. She looked scary but proved herself to be harmless and loving.

“ _Me no tame no me, machigatta tame no machigai,_ ” the Ubume said.

Momo crept through the lantern-lit streets of the peasant’s village. Dressed in tea-length armor of black leather and tin, armed with her katana and her meat cleaver, and wearing a black veil over her face, she was prepared for combat in her own weird way. The reason that she wore a veil over her face was because her appearance scared people who only knew her because of the viral hoax named after her. One of the few people who wasn’t afraid of Momo was Yubaba, Momo’s wife and the manager of the Natsuki Bathhouse. The Ubume didn’t let the haters bring her down. Her own personal depression had brought her down to the lowest level possible when her enemies could not. For four years, she had been in mourning over the murder of her eight children, and she had avenged their deaths by killing her ex-husband and his hitmen. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t shower. The poor bird was restless. Now there were new fiends throughout the hidden kingdom of spirits, demons, witches, and fairies who were out to destroy her. She was out for blood herself in turn. 

“ _Sā, baka. Anata no kaowomiseru. Dete kite, watashi ni chokumen shite,_ ” Momo whispered to herself. 

An undead Samurai sprang out from the ground in front of Momo. The bloodthirsty soldier barked in the face of the Ubume in his native tongue. Momo spoke Japanese and English. She knew what her enemy was telling her. It was a death threat. She was being told to kill herself or flee. How unpleasantly ironic. With a clean cut, the infuriated but heartbroken Ubume severed the soldier’s head from his body, and collected her trophy in a basket which she used to carry her weapons in. So far she had collected the seven heads of these undying bastards. That was her sacred duty every midnight on the weekends of the autumn months. Killing those who wished to kill her simply because of a grave misunderstanding. She didn’t spill blood for fun. Her bloodshed by combat was her way of protecting her young. Her daughter. The name of her daughter was Cassandra Espinosa Gothel, formerly the child of the deceased Belladonna Amara Jezebel Gothel, who in turn was the daughter of Maleficent. She loved Cassandra as much as Cassandra loved her adoptive mother. Momo screeched in infuriated frustration as seventeen more Samurai appeared in a circle around her. She was starting to become tired of killing off so many undead spirits in a single night like some insomnia-powered raven hyped up on the protein from microwaved chicken nuggets. Chicken nuggets sounded good right now. With a chicken’s scream, Momo decapitated all seventeen of her enemies, adding their heads to her collection in her basket that was bigger on the inside than it appeared to be in the eyes of normal villagers. Momo wasn’t normal. Momo was Momo. She was a chicken and a mother all at once. Looking upward at the moon, she screamed into the heavens. 

“ _Watashi wa momodesu. Haha tori. Dākuabenjā. Watashi no chi no ha no ikari o osorete!_ ”

The sound of slow applause alerted the presence of an old enemy to Momo’s ears. She turned around and faced her foe. Smiling at her was a creature which could only be described as an elderly owl mixed with a hairless cat. His grin was friendly in a revoltingly false way. He twirled a knife around in his claws, licking his lips while grinning at Momo. His enemy knew his name. A name which was not uttered aloud in public but known by scribes, scholars, poets, and storytellers who were familiar with the creatures of the Creepypasta world.

“Mr. Widemouth?” Momo gasped.

“The one and only,” Mr. Widemouth responded in a thick English accent. 

“What are you doing here?” Momo demanded.

“I came here to end your suffering. To finish your misery. I wish to cure what ails you.” 

"To cure what ails me?" Momo asked.

"You know what I mean."

The wide-mouthed demon handed the knife to Momo.

"Ease the pain of your broken heart. Forget your loss. A mother's tears shouldn't last forever."

The knife was enchanted. The power of the blade infected Momo’s mind and forced her to hold the weapon against her throat. She coldly glanced over at her enemy. Mr. Widemouth made a throat-slitting gesture while laughing at her. He expected her to kill herself as a cruel form of irony for what those who feared her thought she did to children. Children whom she loved dearly. Moving the knife away from her throat, she threw it at Mr. Widemouth, screaming her ex-husband’s name at him. The knife was grabbed by invisible hands which cut open the creature’s throat. Mr. Widemouth fell over beside Momo, blood dripping from the open wound in his neck. Another demon slain. Another innocent life spared. Momo was finally able to sleep peacefully that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope that all of you whom are reading this have truly and honestly enjoyed my latest series so far. As a fanfic writer, I believe that we as artists have the artistic gift of freedom of interpreting our favorite stories and characters in the way in which we see them in our own minds, and that folklore belongs to the people, not to the companies making the big bucks. You can't copyright fairy tales. You can't copyright ideas. Ideas are free. Creativity is free. Most of the characters that Disney has adapted are from the Public Domain which includes the princesses such as Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Belle, Ariel, and even Rapunzel herself.**.


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